TH  E 


PHILOSOPHY 


MORAL    FEELINGS, 

BY 

JOHN  ABERCROMBIE,  M.  D.  F.  R.  S.  E. 


AN  INTRODUCTORY  CHAPTER. 


ADDITIONS  AND  EXPLANATIONS, 


AND    ALSO    ANALYTICAL    QUESTIONS    FOR    THE 
EXAMINATION  OF  CLASSES. 

BY  JACOB    ABBOTT. 

REVISED  EDITION. 

NEW    YORK: 
COLLINS     &     BR(3THER, 

NO    82    WARREN-STREET. 
1859. 


SVo^l 


Entereu  iiccoruing  to  Act  of  Congi«3ss,  in  the  year  1833, 

Hv  JACOB  ABBOTT, 

In  the  Clerk's  OflR(;e  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachuset'J. 


PREFACE 


BY    THE    AMERICAN    EDITOR 


When  the  editor  of  this  work  prepared  Dr.  Aber- 
crombie's  treatise  on  the  Intellectual  Powers,  for  the 
use  of  schools,  it  was  his  intention  to  have  also  pre- 
pared the  present  work  in  the  same  way,  that  the 
two  might  furnish  teachers  with  a  complete  system  of 
metaphysical  philosophy.  This  plan,  it  was  thought, 
would  be  conducive  to  the  public  benefit,  as  no  school 
edition  of  either  of  these  works  had  then  been  pub- 
lished. Peculiar  circumstances  and  the  pressure  of 
other  duties  have,  however,  caused  a  delay  in  the  pre- 
paration of  the  second  volume ;  but  in  the  mean  time 
the  editor  has  been  gratified  at  receiving  assurances 
from  Dr.  Abercrombie  of  his  approbation  of  the  plan, 
and  of  the  course  pursued  in  the  preparation  of  the 
other  work,  and  this  one  is  prepared  from  a  copy  of  the 
latest  London  edition,  sent  out  by  the  author  expressly 
for  the  purpose. 

As  this  work  is  intended  to  be  the  counterpart  to  the 
other, — being  prepared  on  the  same  plan,  and  to  be 
used  in  the  same  way, — the  editor  has  only  to  repeat 
here  what  was  stated  in  respect  to  that.  The  original 
treatise  of  the  author  is  pubHshed  entire,  without  alter- 
ations or  omissions  ;  the  author's  language  being  held 
sacred.  The  additions  which  have  been  made  are  in- 
tended, not  to  supply  any  supposed  deficiencies  in  the 


\V  PREFACE. 

oriLMiial,  hut  simply  to  adapt  it  to  a  purpose  for  '•A^hich 
the  book  is  in  the  main  admirably  suited;  they  are 
intended,  as  nearly  as  was  possible,  to  be  such  addi- 
tional explanations  as  the  editor  conceived  that  the 
author  would  have  himself  made,  if  he  had  had  in 
view,  while  preparing  the  book,  the  purpose  to  which 
it  is  now  applied. 

The  practice  of  studying  such  a  work  as  this  by 
formal  questions,  the  answers  to  which  pupils  commit 
to  memory,  cannot  be  too  severely  censured.  There 
seems,  however,  to  be  something  necessary  as  a  guide 
to  the  contents  of  the  page,  both  for  the  pupil  in  re- 
viewing the  lesson,  and  for  the  teacher  at  the  recitation. 
That  minute  and  familiar  acquaintance,  not  only  with 
the  doctrines  taught  in  the  lesson,  but  with  the  particu- 
lar contents  of  every  page  and  paragraph,  so  essential 
in  enabling  the  teacher  to  ask  his  questions  with  fluency, 
very  few  teachers  have  the  time  to  secure.  The  editor 
has  accordingly  added  an  analysis  of  the  page  in  the' 
margin.  This  analysis  is  given,  sometimes  in  questions, 
and  sometimes  in  topics  or  titles,  which  can  easily  be 
put  by  the  teacher  into  the  form  of  questions  if  he 
plrases;  or  what  will  perhaps  be  better,  they  can,  at  tli^ 
recitation,  be  given  to  the  pupil  as  topics,  on  which  he 
is  to  state  in  substance  the  sentiments  of  the  author. 


PREFACES    BY    THE   AUTHOR. 


In  a  former  work,  the  author  endeavored  to  de- 
lineate, m  a  simple  and  popular  form,  the  leading 
facts  relating  to  the  Intellectual  Powers,  and  to 
trace  the  principles  which  ought  to  guide  us  in  the 
Investigation  of  Truth.  The  volume,  which  he 
now  offers  to  the  public  attention,  is  intended  as  a 
sequel  to  these  Inquiries  ;  and  his  object  in  it  is  to 
investigate,  in  the  same  unpretending  manner,  the 
Moral  Feehngs  of  the  Human  Mind,  and  the  prin- 
ciples which  ought  to  regulate  our  volitions  and 
our  conduct  as  moral  and  responsible  beings.  The 
two  branches  of  investigation  are,  in  many  respects, 
closely  connected ;  and,  on  this  account,  it  may 
often  happen,  that,  in  the  present  work,  principles 
are  assumed  as  admitted  or  proved,  which,  in  the 
former,  were  stated  at  length,  with  the  evidence  by 
which  they  are  supported. 

He  had  two  objects  chiefly  in  view  when  he 
ventured  upon  this  investigation.  The  one  was  to 
divest  his  inquiry  of  all  unprofitable  speculation, 
and  to  show  that  the  philosophy  of  the  moral  feel- 
mgs  bears  directly  upon  a  practical  purpose  of  the 
highest  moment, — the  mental  and  moral  culture  of 
every  rational  being.  The  other  was  to  show^  the 
close  and  important  relation  which  exists  between 


y\  PREFACE. 

this  science  and  the  doctrines  of  revealed  religion, 
and  the  powerful  evidence  which  is  derived,  for 
the  truth  of  both,  from  the  manner  in  which  they 
confirm  and  illustrate  each  other.  These  two 
sources  of  knowledge  cannot  be  separated,  in  the 
estimation  of  any  one  who  feels  the  deep  interest 
of  the  inquiry,  and  seriously  prosecutes  the  impor- 
tant question — what  is  truth?  If  we  attempt  to 
erect  the  philosophy  of  morals  into  an  independent 
science,  we  shall  soon  find  that  its  highest  induc- 
tions only  lead  us  to  a  point  beyond  which  we  are 
condemned  to  wander  in  doubt  and  in  darkness. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  by  depreciating  philosophy, 
or  the  hght  which  is  derived  from  the  moral  im- 
pressions of  the  mind,  we  deprive  ourselves  of  a 
most  important  source  of  evidence  in  support  of 
revelation.  For  it  is  from  these  impressions,  view- 
ed in  connection  with  the  actual  state  of  man,  that 
we  learn  the  necessity,  and  the  moral  probability 
of  a  revelation  ;  and  it  is  by  principles  existing  in 
the  mind  that  we  are  enabled  to  feel  the  power  of 
that  varied  and  incontrovertible  evidence,  by  which 
revelation  comes  to  the  candid  inquirer  with  all  the 
authority  of  truth. 

Edinburgh,  May,  1835. 


I 


CONT  E  NTS 


INTRODUCTION   BY  THE  AMERICAN   EDITOR. 


PRELIMINARY   OBSERVATIONS. 


SECTION    I. 

NATURE    AND  IMPORTANCE    OF   THE     SCIENCE    OF   THE    MORAL   FEEL- 

mcs. 

Division  of  the  Mental  Powers  into  Intellectual  and  Moral  .  27 

Harmony  which  ought  to  exist  between  these  classes  .  28 
Causes  by  which  this  harmony  is  interrupted,  and  means  of 

counteracting  them 29 

Interest  of  the  Science  of  the  Moral  Feelings  ...  30 
Peculiar  sources  of  Knowledge  bearing  upon  it,  from  the 

light  of  Conscience,  and  of  Divine  Revelation  .        .  32 


SECTION    II. 

FIRST   TRUTHS   IN    THE    SCIENCE    OF   THE    MORAL   FEELINGS. 

Analogy  between  First  Truths,  or  Intuitive   Principles  ot 

Belief,  in  Intellectual,  and  in  Moral  Science         .         .  37 
Classification  of  First  Truths  in  Moral  Science,  as  impres- 
sions arising  out  of  each  other,  by  an  obvious  chain  of  re- 
lations              .         .         .40 

1.  Perception  of  the  nature  and  quality  of  actions,  as 
just  or  unjust,  right  or  wrong  ;  and  a  conviction  of 
duties  which  a  man  owes  to  other  men. 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


2.  Conviction   of  the    existence  and   attributes  of  a  41 

Great  First  Cause,  and  Moral  Governor. 

3.  Conviction  of  Moral  Responsibility.  41 

4.  Impression  of  Future  Existence.  41 
Importance  of  these  convictions,  as  intuitive  articles  o^  belief  43 


THE   PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS. 

Analysis  of  Man  as  a  Moral  Being           ....  49 

I.  The  Desires,  The  Affections,  and  Self-love.  54 

II.  The  Will.  54 

III.  The  Moral  Principle,  or  Conscience.  .)') 

IV.  The    Mokal   Relation  of  Man    towards   the  55 
Deity. 


PART    I. 

THE    DESIRES,    THE    AFFECTIONS,    AND    SELF-LOVE. 


SECTION    I. 


the  desires 


1.  Desire  of  the  Animal  Propensities 

2.  Desire  of  Wealth — Avarice 

3.  Desire  of  Power — Ambition 

4.  Desire  of  Superiority — EmulatioD 

5.  Desire  of  Society 

6.  Desire  of  Esteem  or  Approbation 

7.  Desire  of  Knowledge 

8.  Desire  of  Moral  Improvement 
—  Desire  of  Action 

Importance  of  a  due  Regulation  of  the  Desires 


57 

59 
59 
59 
60 
61 
62 
65 
65 
67 
6b 


SECTION    II. 

the  affections 


Justice 

1.  Justice  to  the  Interests  of  others — Integrity 
2    Justice  to  the  Freedom  of  Action  of  others 


70 

73 
75 
75 


CONTENTS.  IX 

3.  Justice  to  the  Reputation  of  others       ...  76 

4.  Justice  in  estimating  the  Conduct  and  Character  of 

others .77 

5.  Justice  to  the  Opinions  of  others — Candor    ...  78 

6.  Justice  to  the  Feelings  of  others       .         .         .  .79 

7.  Justice  to  the  Moral  Condition  of  others       .         .  79 

n.  Compassion  and  Benevolence 81 

1.  Benevolence  towards  the  Distresses  of  others        .  83 

2.  Benevolence  towards  the  Reputation  of  others  .  84 

3.  Benevolence  towards  the  Character  and  Conduct  of 

others,  including  Forgiveness  of  Injuries    .         .  84 

4.  Benevolence  towards  the  Feelings  of  others      .         .       85 

5.  Benevolence  towards  improving  the  Moral  Condition 

ofotners 86 

HI.  Veracity 87 

1.  The  Love  of  Truth,  in  the  Reception  of  it    .         .  88 

2.  Veracity  in  delivering  statements,  including  Sincerity  90 

3.  Truth  of  Purpose,  or  Correct  Fulfilment  of  Promises  93 

rV.  Friendship,  Love  and  Gratitude      ....       03 

V.  Patriotism 95 

VI.  The  Domestic  Affections 96 

VII.  The  Defensive  Affections,   Anger,  Jealousy,   Re- 

sentment          98 

Important  Influence  produced  upon  the  Exercise  of  theAfiec- 
tions, 

By  Attention 100 

By  Habit  .        ^ 104 

Feeling  of  Moral  Approbation  attached  to  the  Exercise  of  the 

Affections 107 

Happinesis  arising  from  a  due  Exercise  of  the  Aflfections ; — 
IiLfluence  of  Temper        .         .  .  .        .     Ill 


SECTION    III. 

SELF-LOVE. 

Sense  in  which  the  term  is  employed      .         .        ,        .  115 

Tendency  of  a  True  and  Rational  Self-love                   .  .     115 

Morbid  Exercise  of  it, — Selfishness          ....  120 

Disinterested  Conduct  and  Self-denial          .         .  120 


CONTENTS. 


PART    II 


OF    THE    WILL. 


Bimple  Volition, — its  Origin  from  one  of  the  Desires  or  Af- 
fections         122 

Operation  of  Moral  Causes  on  the  Will        ....     123 

Nature  of  these  Causes  and  Source  of  the  Diversity  of  their 
Operation  in  Different  Individuals        ....  125 

Circumstances  required  for  the  Uniformity  of  their  Opera- 
tion: 

1.  Knowledge 128 

Truths  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Relisiou. 

2.  Attention  .         .         .        .         .    ^   .        .         132 

Its  influence  on  Moral  Decisions. 

3.  Moral  Habits 136 

Origin  and  Progress  of  Derangement  of  Moral 

Harmony. 
Influence  of  Habits  upon  Character         .         .  139 
Means  of  Correcting  Injurious  Moral  Habits       .     140 
Practical  Conclusions  from  these  Principles.     Important  In- 
fluence of  Moral  Habits    141 

Necessity  and  Probability  of  Divine  Aid  in  Correcting  Moral 

Derangement 145 

Influence  of  the  Mental  Operation  called  Faith    .         .         .     14'' 


PART    III. 

OF   THE    MORAL   PRINCIPLE,    OR   CONSCIENCE. 

Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  Conscience  as  a  Distinct  Principle 
of  the  Mind         .         .         .         ....        .         ItO 

Nature  of  its  Operation  as  the  Regulating  Principle     .         .     15? 

Analogy  between  it  and  Reason 152 

Its  Influence  in  conveying  an  Impression  of  the  Moral  Attri- 
butes of  the  Deity 156 

Knowledge  derived  from  this  Source        .         .         .         .  156 

Comparison  of  the  Divine  Attributes  with  the  Actual  State 
of  Man .         .         .159 

Diniculties  arising  from  tliis  Comparison  removed  only  by 
the  Christian  Revelation 160 

Mental  process  by  which  the  Regulating  Power  of  Clonscieuce 
is  Impaired  or  Lost IGi 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

nfluence  of  this  Condition  upon  the  Judgment  in  regard  tc 

Moral  Truth 165 

Fnfluence  of  Attention  in  Moral  Decisions    ....  168 
Man's  Responsibility  for  his  Belief        .         .         .  170 
Important  relation  between   Moral  Emotions  and  vo- 
luntary Intellectual  Processes         .         .         .         •  171 

appendix  to  part  hi. 

§  1. — Of  the  Origin   and  Immutability   of   Moral   Dis- 
tinctions AND  Theories  of  Morals      ....     176 

Origin  of  our  Idea  of  Virtue  and  Vice   .         .        .         178 

System  of  Mandeville ISO 

of  Clarke  and  Wollaston    ....         181 

System  of  Utility 182 

Selfisn  System 183 

System  of  Paley 185 

Defect  of  these  Systems  in  not  acknowledging   the 

Supreme  Authority  of  Conscience       .         .         .         188 
Objections  to  the  belief  of  a  uniformity  of  Moral  Feel- 
ing which  have  been  founded  on  the  practices  of 
barbarous  nations  .......     196 

System  of  Dr.  Smith,  or  Theory  of  Sympathy       .  198 

Province  of  Reason  in  Moral  Decisions      .        ;,         .     201 
Remarks  on  the  Observations  of  some  late  -writers 
respecting  the  Corruption  of  Conscience     .        .         204 

2. — Of  the  Harmony  of  the  Moral  Feelings       .        .    206 

Consistency  of  Character  arising  from  this  Harmony, 
— and  Defects  of  Character  to  which  it  is  opposed      210 


PART    IV 


OF  the  moral  relation  of  man  towards  the  deity      .     215 

View  of  the  Divine  Character  in  reference  to  this  Relation       216 
Rfigulation  of  Moral  Feelings  which  ought  to  arise  out  of 
it;— .•    217 

1.  Habitual  effort  to  cultivate  a  Sense  of  the  Divine 

Presence,  and  to  regulate  the  Moral  Feelings  and 
Character  by  it 217 

2.  Submission  to  the  Appointments  of  Providence     .     222 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

3.  Sense  of  Moral  Imperfection  and  Guilt,  and  Suppli- 

cation for  Mercy,  with  Reliance  on  Divine  Aid  223 

4.  Sense  of  Gratitude,  Affection,  and  Love         .         .  224 
Conduct  and  Character  arising  out  of  this  Condition  of  the 

Moral  Feelings 225 

Means  of  Cultivating  it        . 226 

Nature  and  Operation  of  Faith 231 

Province  of  Faith  in  the  Philosophy  of  the  Moral  Feelings  .  234 

Truths  which  are  its  more  Immediate  Object        .  238 

Its  influence  on  the  Moral  Condition  .         .         .  240 

Province  of  Faith  in  the  Scheme  of  Christianity       .         .  245 

Harmony  of  Christian  Truth  with   the   Philosophy  of  the 

Moral  Feelings     .         .  .  MS 


INTRODUCTION. 


METHOD  OF  USING  THE  BOOK. 


TO    BE    CAKEFTJLLY   STUDIED   BY   THE   PITPIL   AS   THE   FIRST    LESSON. 


There  are  three  different  and  entirely  distinct  objects 
in  view  in  the  study  of  Moral  Philosophy,  and  the 
pnpil  ought  to  understand  clearly  what  these  objects 
are  at  the  outset,  in  order  to  derive  the  full  advantage 
of  the  study. 

I.  Discipline  of  mind.  By  discipline  we  mean  prac- 
tice and  improvement.  Now  it  is  of  great  advantage 
to  the  powers  of  the  mind  to  be  practised  a  little  in 
early  life,  in  thinking  and  reasoning  on  metaphysical 
subjects. 

"  But  what  is  the  precise  meaning  of  the  word  meta- 
physkalT^  the  pupil  will  perhaps  ask.  In  explanation 
we  say  that  all  sensible  objects, — that  is,  all  that  can 
be  seen  or  felt,  or  perceived  by  any  of  the  senses, — 
and  in  fact  all  others  that  are  of  the  same  nature  with 
them,  though  they  may  be  so  minute  or  so  subtle  as  to 
elude  the  senses, — are  called  physical.  Thus  earth, 
air,  animals,   light,  the  electric   fluid,  come  within  the 

How  many  objects  in  pursuing  this  study?    Tlie  first?    Discipline,  what?     VVi;al 
Included  in  the  i^rm. physical  7    Examples. 

2 


1 4  INTRODUCTION. 

term  physical.     The  sciences  which  relate  to  them  are 
called  the  physical  sciences. 

But  there  are  certain  other  realities  with  which  we 
are  conversant,  that  he  beyond   these,  as  it  were,  and 
are  of  a  dilFerent  nature  altogether  : — the  powers  and 
faculties  of  the  mind,  various  moral  truths,  the  princi-      ; 
pies  of  duty,  and  other  similar  topics.     They  are   to-      i 
tally   different  in  their   very  nature  from  the  others. 
They   can  neither   be   seen   nor   heard  nor   handled 
They  are  in  no  place,  and   have  no  relation   to  time 
You  cannot  illustrate  them  by  models  or  by  diagrams. 
In  fact  the  whole  field  in  which  they  lie  is  entirely 
beyond^  as  it  were,  the  material  creation.     Hence  they 
are  called  meta-physical ;    the   affix  meta  having  the 
force  of  beyond. 

Now  it  is  highly  conducive  to  the  health  and  vigor 
of  the  mental  powers,  to  have  them  occupied  in  some 
degree  in    youth   upon   these    metaphysical    inquiries. 
For  in  entering  upon  this   field,  the  mind  is  compelled    1 
to    draw    itself    off    from    the    external    and    visible    ■' 
creation,  and  turn  back  upon  itself;   and  the  power  of 
attention   and  abstraction,  which  are  thus  cherished,      , 
are  of  great  value  in  all  the  pursuits  and  occupations  "j^ 
of  life.     Then  too  the  various  moral  and  metaphysical      < 
distinctions   which  the   mind  must   learn   to   discern, 
exercise  and  strengthen  its  powers  of  discrimination, 
more  than  almost  any  other  discipline.     This  exercise 
is  therefore  one  of  the   great  objects  which  should  be 
aimed  at  in  such  a  study. 

II.  A  second  object  which  is  to  be  gained  by  the 
study  of  Moral  Philosophy,  is  the  formation  of  correct 
opinions  on  the  subject  of  human  duty.  It  is  more 
important  that  our  opinions  in  respect  to  right  and 
wrong  should  be  correct,  than  on  any  other  subject 
whatever.     If  our   minds  are  thoroughly  imbued  with 

"^.xw  all  physical  ohjccls  t)e  perceiveri  by  llie.  senses  ?  Examples  of  objecis  nol  phy- 
sicHl.  How  .iiffureiil?  Meaning  of  r»K;^a.  INleuning  of  ineiapliysical.  Lrtccl  of  meta- 
physical dlmliesi.  Diacmniuatiou.  Secoml  object  ?  Comparative  importance  of  soinid 
opiitiiii  F'  in  morals. 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

sound  general  principles,  we  shall  be  continually  and 
almost  instinctively  applying  them  to  the  various 
situations  and  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed. 
Our  conduct  will  thus  be  steady — the  result  of  fixed 
principle,  instead  of  springing  from  the  mere  impulse 
of  feeling.  The  pupil  ought  to  study  such  a  work  as 
this  with  this  object  very  steadily  and  very  distinctly 
in  view.  Your  opinions  in  respect  to  what  is  right  and 
wrong  in  human  conduct  are  now  to  be  moulded  and 
formed.  Your  principles  are  to  be  fixed.  The  frame 
work  of  a  moral  system  is  to  be  constructed,  around 
which  your  future  character  is  to  be  in  a  great  measure 
formed,  and  by  which  your  principles  and  opinions  on 
almost  all  other  subjects  are  to  be  modified.  No  argu- 
ment is  necessary  to  show  that,  in  this  view  of  the 
case,  the  study  of  Moral  Philosophy  is  one  of  the  most 
important  studies  of  life. 

III.  The  third  great  object  to  be  regarded  in  the 
pursuit  of  this  study  is  its  direct  practical  bearing  upon 
the  heart  and  conduct  of  the  pupil.  How  far  it  may 
prove  conducive  to  such  an  end,  will  depend  very 
much, — altogether,  in  fact, — upon  the  spirit  and  temper 
with  which  it  is  commenced.  "Do  1  really  wish,'' 
should  the  pupil  ask  himself, — "  Do  1  really  wish  to 
learn  my  duty  for  the  purpose  of  doing  it  7  Do  I  really, 
honestly  wish,  while  1  live  in  this  world,  to  conform 
my  conduct  more  and  more  to  the  principles  of  recti- 
tude? to  make  it  my  rule  to  do  always  what  is  right, 
because  it  is  right?  and  to  live  with  the  constant  object 
in  mind  of  endeavoring  to  please  my  great  Creator  and 
Benefactor,  by  obeying  his  commands  and  complying 
with  his  will  7"  If  you  commence  such  a  study  as 
this  with  these  desires,  and  go  on  through  chapter  after 
chapter  of  the  work,  looking  constantly  for  light  to 
shine  upon  your  path  of  daily  duty, — the  study  will  be 
found  to  have  a  very  powerful  and  permanent  influence 
in  the  formation  of  your  character. 

Effect  upon  the  conduct,  what.     Third  otDject  ?    Its  accomplishment  depends  upon 
ivhat  1    Questions  ? 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

These  three  objects  then  should  be  kept  by  the  pupii 
constantly  in  mind,  as  he  proceeds  with  this  study, — 
intellectual  discipline,  the  formation  of  correct  opinions, 
and  practical  improvement.  If  these  three  objects  are 
thus  aimed  at  and  secured,  the  class  will  have  found 
the  time  devoted  to  this  study  hours  most  profitably 
spent. 

The  directions  to  be  given  in  respect  to  the  mode  of 
studying  the  book,  are  substantially  the  same  with 
those  contained  in  the  introduction  to  the  other  work. 
We  repeat  them  here,  for  even  if  the  pupil  has  already 
used  that  text-book,  his  mind  should  be  refreshed  with 
these  directions,  on  commencing  this,  and  they  will  be 
still  more  necessary  to  classes  who  may  use  this  first. 

And  in  the  first  place  I  must  remark  that  Moral 
Philosophy,  like  Intellectual  Philosophy,  is  not  and  can- 
not be  an  easy  study.  Its  very  difficulty  is  the  source 
of  one  of  the  great  benefits,  the  mental  discipline,  which 
is  to  be  obtained  from  it.  These  metaphysical  studies 
are  intended  as  a  sort  of  intellectual  gymnastics,  in 
which  the  tasks  ought  indeed  to  be  brought  fairly 
within  the  powers  of  the  pupil,  but  they  ought  nearly 
to  equal  those  powers,  so  as  to  call  them  into  active 
and  vigorous  exercise,  or  the  end  will  be  lost,  [f, 
therefore,  the  writer  of  a  treatise  on  such  a  subject 
comes  down  so  completely  to  the  level  of  the  young  as 
to  make  the  study  mere  light  reading,  he  fails  entirely 
of  accomplishing  what  ought  to  be  his  highest  aim. 
He  destroys  the  difiiculty  and  the  advantage  together. 
It  is  indeed  true,  that  a  very  useful  book  may  be  writ- 
ten for  children,  with  the  design  of  merely  giving  iliem 
information  on  some  subjects  connected  with  the  phi- 
losophy of  mind  and  of  morals.  It  might  be  entertain- 
ing, and  to  a  considerable  degree  instructive,  but  it 
would  answer  few  of  the  important  purposes  which 
ought  to  be  in  view,  m  the  introduction  of  such  a  study 

Recapiliilaiinn  of  the  objects.  Is  this  sliiily  iiitendeil  to  be  an  easy  one  ?  Why  not  7 
The  study  dillicult.  Why  ?  Gymnaaiics.  Difference  between  reading  and  study  on 
ihis  snhjecl. 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

into  literary  institutions.  It  would  not  develop  the 
reasoning  or  thinking  powers.  It  would  awaken  no 
new  intellectual  effort. 

Such  being  the  nature  of  these  studies,  it  is  plain 
that  it  ought  not  to  be  commenced  by  any  pupil  with- 
out a  propci  understanding  of  the  difficulties,  or  the 
qualifications  necessary  to  surmount  them.  These 
qualifications  are  the  following: 

I.  Ability  to  understand  the  language  of  the  work. 
It  is  not  a  child's  book.  It  was  written  by  a  man,  and 
was  intended  to  be  read  by  men.  The  editor  has  made 
no  effort  to  alter  it  in  this  respect,  so  that  the  book 
stands  on  a  level,  as  to  its  style  and  language,  with  the 
great  mass  of  books  intended  to  influence  and  interest 
the  mature.  It  ought  to  be  so;  for  to  be  able  to  under- 
stand such  writing  is  necessary  for  all,  and  if  the  pupil 
is  far  enough  advanced  in  his  education  to  study  meta- 
physics, it  is  quite  time  for  him  to  be  habituated  to  it. 
Let  no  pupil  therefore,  after  he  is  fairly  engaged  in  the 
study,  complain  that  he  cannot  understand  the.  lessons. 
This  is  a  point  which  ought  to  be  settled  before  he  begins. 

The  pupil  may  read  as  attentively  as  he  pleases. 
He  may  make  use  of  a  dictionary,  or  any  other  similar 
help.  He  may  make  occasional  inquiries  of  a  friend  ; 
but  if  he  cannot,  with  such  assistance,  really  under- 
stand the  train  of  thought  presented  in  any  lesson, 
and  give  a  tolerable  account  of  it  to  his  teacher,  he  had 
better  for  the  present  postpone  the  study  of  Moral  Phi- 
losophy: his  mind  is  too  immature. 

II.  Mental  otdtivation  enough  to  be  interested  in  the 
subject  of  the  loork.  The  subjects  discussed,  and  the 
views  presented,  are  of  such  a  nature,  that  the  undisci- 
plined can  take  no  interest  in  them.  They  cannot  ap- 
preciate them.  Unless  the  mind  has  made  considerable 
progress  in  its  development,  and  in  its  attainments  in 
other    branches,    and   unless    it  has,   in    some  degree, 


(.Inalificalions.     First  qualification,    what?    Language  of  the  book.     Second  qHal' 
€r;Uior..  , 

2^ 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

formed  habits  of  patient  attention,  it  must  fail  in  the 
attempt  to  appreciate  such  a  study  as  this.  The  pninl, 
in  such  a  case,  after  going  a  Httle  way,  will  say  that  the 
book  is  dull  and  dry.  He  will  attribute  to  the  study, 
or  to  the  mode  in  which  it  is  treated,  a  failure,  which 
really  results  from  his  own  deficiency.  He  ought  to 
reflect  when  tempted  to  make  this  charge,  that  it  cannot 
be  possible  that  the  study  is,  in  itself,  uninteresting. 
This  treatise  of  Dr.  Abercrombie's  has  been  bought 
and  read  with  avidity  by  thousands  in  Great  Britain 
and  America,  who  could  have  been  led  to  it  by  no  mo- 
tive whatever,  but  the  interest  which  the  subject  in- 
spires. They,  therefore,  who  are  not  interested  in  it, 
after  making  faithful  efforts,  fail  of  being  so  because 
their  minds  are  not  yet  prepared  to  appreciate  what 
%ey  read ;  and  by  complaining  of  the  dryness  or  dull- 
ness of  the  book,  they  are  really  exposing  their  oavu 
incompetency  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  it.  The  teach- 
er ought  to  take  care  that  his  pupils  do  not  commence 
the  work  until  they  are  capable  of  feeling  the  interest 
which  it  is  calculated  to  awaken. 

HI.  A  loiUmgness  to  give  to  the  sitbject  the  severe^ 
patient  and  persevering  study  which  it  demands.  Some 
will  wish  to  take  up  such  a  branch  merely  for  the  sake 
of  having  something  new.  Others  because  their  vanity 
is  flattered  by  the  idea  that  they  are  studying  Philoso- 
phy. Others  still,  because  they  wish  for  the  honor  of 
being  in  a  class  with  certain  individuals  known  as 
good  scholars.  Beginning  with  such  ideas  and  mo- 
tives will  only  lead  to  disappointment  and  failure. 
The  pupil  ought  to  approach  this  subject  Avith  a  dis- 
tinct understanding  that  though  it  is  full  of  interest,  it 
will  be  full  of  difficulty ;  that  it  will  try,  to  the  utmost, 
his  powers;  and  that  the  pleasure  which  he  is  to  seek 
in  the  pursuit  of  it  is  the  enjoyment  of  high  intellectual 
effort, — the  interest  of  encountering  and    overcoming 

Consequences  of  commencing  the  study  without  it.  The  study  really  interesting  ; 
hd.v  proved  to  be  so.  Complaints  of  its  dullness  show  what?  Third  qualification 
Wr  >ng  motives  for  commencing  the  study.     Propttr  views  of  it. 


INTRODUCE  »N.  19 

difficulties,  and  opening  to  himself  a  new  field  of 
knowledge,  and  a  new  scope  for  the  exercise  of  his 
powers. 

I  come  now  to  describe  a  method  of  studying  and 
reciting  the  lessons  in  such  a  work  as  this.  I  say  a 
method,  because  it  is  only  meant  to  be  proposed  for 
adoption  in  cases  w  here  another  or  a  better  one  is  not 
at  hand.  Experienced  and  skilful  teachers  have  their 
own  modes  of  conducting  such  studies,  and  the  recita- 
tions connected  with  them,  with  which  there  ought  to  be 
no  interference.  The  plan  about  to  be  proposed  may, 
however,  be  of  use  in  assisting  teachers  who  are,  for 
the  first  time,  introducing  this  study  to  their  schools ; 
and  the  principles  on  which  it  is  based  are  well  worthy 
the  attention  of  every  pupil  who  is  about  to  commence 
this  study. 

1.  When  you  sit  down  to  the  study  of  a  lesson  in 
this  work,  be  careful  to  be  free  from  interruption,  and 
to  have  such  a  period  of  time  before  you,  to  be  occu- 
pied in  the  work,  as  will  give  you  the  opportunity 
really  to  enter  into  it.  Then  banish  other  thoughts 
entirely  from  the  mind,  and  remove  yourself  as  far  as 
possible  from  other  objects  of  interest  or  sources  of  in- 
terruption. The  habit  into  which  many  young  persons 
alloAA'-  themselves  to  fall,  of  studying  lessons  in  fragments 
of  time,  having  the  book,  perhaps,  for  some  time  before 
them,  but  allowing  their  attention  to  be  conunually 
diverted  from  their  pursuit,  will  only  lead  to  superficial 
and  utterly  useless  attainments.  It  is  destructive  ^o  all 
those  habits  of  mind  necessary  for  success  in  any  im- 
portant intellectual  pursuit.  It  is  especially  injurious 
in  such  a  study  as  this.  Metaphysical  Philosophy  is 
emphatically  the  science  of  thought^  and  nothing  effec- 
tual can  be  done  in  it  without  patient,  continued,  and 
solitary  study. 


Method  of  studying,  why  proposed.    First  direction.     A  common  but  faulty  mode 
if  studying  described.     Its  effecls,  what  ? 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

2.  Ascertain  before  you  commence  any  lesson  what 
place  it  occupies  in  the  general  plan  of  the  book,  with 
which,  at  the  outset,  you  should  become  very  tho- 
roughly acquainted.  Nothing  promotes  so  much  the 
formation  of  logical  and  systematic  habits  of  mind,  and 
nothing  so  effectually  assists  the  memory,  in  regard  to 
what  any  particular  work  contains,  as  the  keeping 
constantly  in  view  the  general  plan  of  the  book  ;  look- 
ing at  it  as  a  whole,  and  understanding  distinctly,  not 
merely  each  truth,  or  system  of  truths,  brought  to  view, 
but  the  place  which  it  occupies  in  the  general   design. 

3.  This  preparation  being  made,  you  are  prepared  to 
read  the  lesson,  which  should  be  done,  the  first  time, 
with  great  attention  and  care,  and  with  especial  etfort 
to  understand  the  connection  between  each  sentence 
and  paragraph,  and  t^^ose  which  precede  and  follow  it. 
It  should  always  bv.  t)rne  in  mind,  that  treatises  on 
such  subjects  as  these  present  trains  of  thought  and 
reasoning,  not  mere  detached  ideas  and  sentences. 
Every  remark,  therefore,  should  be  examined,  not  by 
itself,  but  in  its  connections.  This  should  be  especially 
observed  in  regard  to  the  anecdotes  and  illustrations 
with  which  the  work  abounds.  The  bearing  of  each 
one  on  the  subject  should  be  very  carefully  studied. 
They  are  all  intended  to  prove  some  point,  or  to  illus- 
trate some  position.  After  reading  such  narratives, 
then,  you  should  not  only  take  care  to  understand  it  as 
a  story,  but  should  ask  yourselves  such  questions  as 
these:  "Why  is  this  story  introduced  here?  What 
does  the  author  mean  to  prove  by  it?  What  principle 
does  it  illustrate? 

The  pupil,  too,  should  avail  himself  of  collateral  helps 
in  understanding  the  lesson.  Every  geographical,  or 
iiistorical,  or  personal  allusion  should  be  examined  with 
the  help  of  the  proper  books.  If  a  distin2:uished  indi- 
vidual is  mentioned,  find   the  account   of  his  life  in  a 


Second  direction.     EiTccis  of  iliis    practice.     Third   direction.     Connections   of 
p  i>»sitge.     Anecd'tes  and  illustrations,  liow  to  be  studied  ?    Coilaleral  nelps 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

biographical  dictionary.  If  a  place  is  named,  seek  it 
on  the  map.  There  is  one  other  direction  which  I  am 
sorry  to  say  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  mention. 
Look  out  ail  the  words,  whose  meaning  you  do  not 
dictinctly  and  fully  understand,  in  a  dictionary. 
Strange  as  it  ma-j  seem,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  a 
pupil  in  school  will  find  in  his  lesson  a  sentence  con- 
taining words  he  does  not  understand,  and,  after  per- 
plexing himself  some  minutes  with  it  in  vain,  he  will 
go  to  his  recitation  in  ignorance  of  its  meaning,  as  if  he 
never  had  heard  of  such  a  contrivance  as  a  dictionary. 
Now  the  habit  of  seeking  from  other  books  explana- 
tions and  assistance  in  regard  to  your  studies  is  of  in- 
calculable value.  It  will  cause  you  some  addftional 
trouble,  but  it  will  multiply,  many  fold,  your  interest 
and  success. 

4.  After  having  thus  read,  with  minute  and  critical 
attention,  the  portion  assigned,  the  pupil  should  next 
take  a  cursory  review  of  it,  by  glancing  the  eye  over 
the  paragraphs,  noticing  the  heads,  and  the  questions 
or  topics  in  the  margin,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  in,  as 
it  were,  a  view  of  the  passage  as  a  whole.  The  order 
of  discussion  which  the  author  adopts,  and  the  regular 
manner  in  which  the  several  steps  of  an  argument,  or 
the  several  applications  of  a  principle,  succeed  one 
another,  should  be  carefully  observed.  There  are  the 
same  reasons  for  doing  this,  in  regard  to  any  particular 
chapter,  as  in  regard  to  the  whole  work.  The  connec- 
tion, too,  betAveen  the  passage  which  constitutes  the 
lesson,  and  the  rest  of  the  book,  i.  e.  the  place  Avhich 
it  oc(  upies  in  the  plan  of  the  author,  should  be  brought 
to  mind  again.  You  thus  classify  and  arrange,  in  your 
own  mind,  what  is  learned,  and  not  only  fix  it  more 
firmly,  but  you  are  acquiring  logical  habits  of  mind, 
which  will  be  of  lasting  and  incalculable  value. 

5.  You  will  thus  have  acquired  a  thorough  know- 


Examples  of  this.      Use  of  dictionary.     Fourth   direction.     Review  of  the  lesaoo 
tlkjnneclions  of  the  lesson. 


22  I.NTltODUCTlON. 

ledge  of  the  lesson,  but  this  is  by  no  means  all  that  is 
necessary.  You  must  learn  to  recite  it ;  that  is,  you 
must  learn  to  express,  in  your  own  language,  the  ideas 
you  have  thus  acquired.  This  is  a  distinct  and  an 
important  point.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  for 
pupils  to  say,  when  they  attempt  to  recite  in  such  a 
study  as  this,  "  I  know  the  answer,  but  I  cannot  ex- 
press it;"  as  if  the  power  to  express  was  not  as  im- 
portant as  the  ability  to  understand. 

The  pupil  then  must  make  special  preparation  for 
this  part  of  his  duty,  that  is,  for  expressing  in  his  own 
language  the  thoughts  and  principles  of  the  author. 
The  best  way,  perhaps,  of  making  this  preparation  is 
to  go  over  the  lesson,  looking  only  at  the  topics  in  the 
margin,  and  repeating  aloud,  or  in  a  whisper,  or  in 
thought,  the  substance  of  what  is  stated  under  each. 
Be  careful  that  what  you  say  makes  complete  and 
perfect  sense  of  itself,  that  it  is  expressed  in  clear  and 
natural  language,  and  that  it  is  a  full  exposition  of  the 
author's  meaning. 

Such  a  study  as  this  ought  not  to  be  recited  by  mere 
question  and  answer.  \V  henever  the  subject  will  allow, 
it  is  better  for  the  teacher  to  give  out  a  subject  or  topic, 
on  which  the  pupil  may  express  the  sentiments  of  the 
writer.  This  is  altogether  the  pleasantest,  as  well  as 
the  most  useful  mode  of  recitation.  Those  unaccus- 
tomed to  it  will,  of  course,  find  a  little  difliculty  at 
first.  But  the  very  effort  to  surmount  this  difficulty 
will  be  as  useful  in  developing  and  strengthening  the 
hitellectual  powers,  as  any  other  effort  which  the  study 
requires. 

You  should  go  over  the  lesson,  then,  for  the  pnrpose 
of  reciting  it  to  yourself,  as  it  were,  by  looking  at  the 
marginal  titles,  one  by  one,  and  distinctly  stating  to 
yourself  the  substance  of  the  author's  views  upon  each. 
if  this  preparation   is  made,    and    if  the  recitation  is 


Fifth   direction.      Learning  to   recite.     What  implied  in   this.      Common 
Prcpararion,  how  to  be  nude.     Mode  of  questioning.     Advantage  of  this  mode. 


INTRODUCTIOxX.  23 

conducted  on  the  same  principles,  the  pupiJs  will  soon 
find  themselves  making  very  perceptible  and  rapid 
progress  in  that  most  important  art,  viz.  expressing 
their  sentiments  with  fluency,  distinctness,  and  promp- 
titude. 

It  will  be  evident,  from  what  is  said  above,  that  the 
pupil  ought  not  to  commit  to  memory  the  language  of 
the  author.  This  practice  may  indeed  be  useful,  in 
strengthening  the  memory,  and  in  some  other  ways, 
but  very  far  higher  objects  ought  to  be  in  view,  in 
studying  such  a  work  as  this,  and  they  will  be  far  better 
attained  by  the  pupils  depending  entirely  on  them- 
selves for  the  language  in  which  they  express  their 
ideas. 

6.  After  the  class  has,  in  this  thorough  manner,  gone 
through  with  one  of  the  divisions  of  the  book,  they 
should  pause,  to  review  it ;  and  the  best,  as  well  as  the 
pleasantest  mode  of  conducting  a  review,  is  to  assign 
to  the  class  some  written  exercises  on  the  portion  to  be 
thus  re-examined.  These  exercises  may  be  of  various 
kinds :  I  shall,  however,  mention  only  two. 

(1.)  An  abstract  of  the  chapter  to  be  reviewed;  that 
is,  a  brief  exposition,  in  writing,  of  the  plan  of  the 
chapter,  with  the  substance  of  the  writer's  views  on 
each  head.  Such  an  abstract,  though  it  will  require 
some  labor  at  first,  will  be,  with  a  little  practice,  a 
pleasant  exercise  ;  and  perhaps  there  is  nothing  which 
so  effectually  assists  in  digesting  the  knowledge  which 
the  pupil  has  obtained,  and  in  fixing  it  indelibly  upon 
the  mind,  and  nothing  is  so  conducive  to  accurate 
logical  habits  of  thought,  as  this  writing  an  analysis 
of  a  scientific  work.  It  may  be  very  brief,  and  ellipti- 
cal in  its  style ;  its  logical  accuracy  is  the  main  point 
to  be  secured.  By  devoting  a  single  exercise  at  the 
end  of  each  section  to  such  an  exercise,  a  class  can  go 
on  regularly  through  the  book,  and,  with  very  httle 
delay,  make  an  abstract  of  the  whole. 


Commitling  to  memory.     Sixth  direction.     Review,    how  to   be   conducted,     first 
method,  what  ?    Its  uaes.     Style  and  manner. 


24  INTRODUCTION. 

(2.)  Writing  additional  illustrations  of  the  principles 
brought  to  view, — ilhistrations  furnished  either  by  tliS 
experience  or  observation  of  the  pupil,  or  by  what  he 
has  read  in  books.     There  are  multitudes  of  subjects  dis- 
cussed in  the  work,  suitable  for  this  purpose.    Wherever 
anecdotes  are  told,  illustrating  the  laws  of  the  human 
mind,  the  pupil  can  add  others ;  for  these  laws  are  the 
same  in  all    minds,    and    are   constantly  in    operation. 
Writing  these  additional  illustrations,  especially  if  they 
are  derived  from  your  own  experience,  will  have  ano- 
ther most  powerful  effect.     They  will  turn  your  atten- 
tion within,  and  accustom  you  to  watch  the  operations, 
and  study  the  laws  of  your  own  minds.     Many  pupils 
do  not  seem  to  understand   that  it  is  the   powers  and 
movements   of  the  immaterial   principle  within  their 
own  bosoms,  which  are  the  objects  of  investigation  in 
such  a  science.     Because  illustrations   are  drawn   from 
the  histories  of  men  with  strange  names,  who  lived  iiii 
other  countries,  and  a  hall  a  century  ago,  they  seeini 
insensibly  to  imbibe  the  idea,  that  it  is  the  philosophy 
of  tliese  mens  minds  which  they  are  studying,    not' 
their  own.     Now  the  fact  is,  that   appeals  are  made  to 
the  history  and  experience  of  these  individuals,  simply 
because  they  are  more  accessible  to  the  writers  of  books. 
A  perfect  system  of  Metaphysical  Philosophy  might  be 
written,    with    all    its    illustrations   drawn    from    the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  any  single  pupil  in  the  class. 
The   mind   is   in   its   essential   laws   everywhere   the 
same  ;  and  of  course  you  can  find  the  evidence  of  the 
existence  and  operation  of  all  these  laws  in  your  own 
breasts,  if  you  will  look  there.     What  you  cannot,   by 
proper  research,  find  confirmed  by  your  own   experi-- 
ence,  or  your  observations  upon   those  around   you,  isf 
not  a  law  of  mind. 

Such   is   substantially  the  course  which    is    rocom 


Second  mode.     Example.     Ailvaiilages  of  it.     Coimiion  misunderstaniling  '.\\  re^ai 
1(1  the  nature  of  this  study. 


INTllOUUCTION.  25 

mended  to  those  who  shall  commence  the  study  of  this 
work.  It  will  be  perceived  that  the  ohject  of  it  is  to 
make  the  study  of  it,  if  possible,  not  what  it  too  often 
is,  the  mere  mechanical  repetition  of  answers  marked 
and  committed  to  memory,  but  an  intellectual  and  tho- 
rough investigation  of  a  science.  .  If  the  book  is  studied 
hi  this  way,  it  must  have  a  most  powerful  influence  in 
cultivating  accurate  and  discriminating  habits,  in  deve- 
loping intellectual  power,  and  in  storing  the  mind  with 
correct  moral  principles,  and  permanently  plpv^,t'rig  and 
improving  the  moral  character. 

3 


I-: 


<?^ 


PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS. 


SECTION      I. 


NATURE   AND    IMPORTANCF    OF     THE    SCIENCE    OF    THE   MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

Man  is  to  be  cootemplated  as  an  intellectual,  and  as 
a  moral  being.  By  his  intellectual  powers  he  acquires 
the  knowledge  of  facts,  observes  their  connections,  and 
traces  the  conclusions  which  arise  out  of  them.  These 
mental  operations,  however,  even  in  a  high  state  of 
cultivation,  may  be  directed  entirely  to  truths  of  an  ex- 
trinsic kind, — that  is,  to  such  as  do  not  exert  any  influ- 
ence either  on  the  moral  condition  of  the  individual,  or 
on  his  relations  to  other  sentient  beings.  They  may 
exist  in  an  eminent  degree  in  the  man  who  lives  only 
for  himself,  and  feels  little  beyond  the  personal  wants 
or  the  selfish  enjoyments  of  the  hour  that  is  passing 
over  him. 

But,  when  we  contemplate  man  as  a  moral  being, 
new  relations   open  on  our  view, — and   these  are  of 

In  what  tAvofold  point  of  view  is  man  to  be  considered  ?  Pi'ovince  of  tJie 
intellect  ?  Meaning  of  extrinsic  ?  Moral  relations, — their  nature  and 
'  rigin  ? 


28  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVAllONS.  [sEC.    I. 

mightier  import.  We  find  him  occupying  a  place  in  a 
great  system  of  moral  government,  in  which  he  has  an  j 
important  station  to  fill  and  high  duties  to  perform.  ' 
We  find  him  placed  in  certain  relations  to  a  great  mo- 
ral Governor,  who  presides  over  this  system  of  things, 
and  to  a  future  state  of  being  for  which  the  present 
scene  is  intended  to  prepare  him.  We  find  him  pos- 
sessed of  powers  which  qualify  him  to  feel  these  rela- 
tions, and  of  principles  calculated  to  guide  him  through 
the  solemn  responsibilities  which  attend  his  state  of 
moral  discipline. 

These  two  parts  of  his  mental  constitution  we  perceive 
to  be  remarkably  distinct  from  each  other.  The  former 
may  be  in  vigorous  exercise  in  him  who  has  little  feel- 
ing of  his  moral  condition ;  and  the  latter  may  be  in 
a  high  state  of  culture  in  the  man  who,  in  point  of  in-  I 
tellectual  acquirement,  knows  little  beyond  the  truths 
which  it  most  concerns  him  to  know, — those  great  but 
simple  principles  which  guide  his  conduct  as  a  respon- 
sible being.  J 

In  a  well-regulated  mind,  there  is  an  intimate  bar-  I 
mony  and  co-operation  between  these  two  departments  |i 
of  the  mental  economy.  Knowledge,  received  through 
the  powers  of  sensation  and  simple  intellect,  whether 
relating  to  external  things,  or  to  mental  phenomena, 
and  conclusions  derived  from  these  through  the  powers 
of  reasoning,  ouglit  all  to  contribute  to  that  which  is 
the  highest  state  of  man. — his  purity  as  a  moral  benig. 


■  Two  classes  of  them.  Wluit  powers  related  to  them?  Are  the  two  parts 
of  the  mental  constitution  distinct  or  blended?  In  what  respects?  Are  they 
entirely  distinct  ?  Harmony  :ind  co-operation  between  them.  What  sliould 
be  Ujc  effect  of  knowledge?     The  sources  of  knowledge  alluded  to. 


SEC.  I.]        PHILOSOPHY    OF    THE    MORAL    FEELINGS.  29 

They  ought  all  to  lend  their  aid  towards  the  cultivation 
of  those  principles  of  his  nature  which  bind  him  to  his 
fellow-men;  and  those  higher  principles  still,  which 
raise  his  feeble  powers  to  the  Eternal  Incomprehensible 
One.  the  first  great  cause  of  all  things,  and  the  mora] 
Governor  of  the  universe. 

A  slight  degree  of  observation  is  sufficient  to  convince 
us,  that  such  a  regulated  condition  of  the  mental  con- 
stitution does  not  exist  in  the  generality  of  mankind. 
It  is  not  my  present  purpose  to  inquire  into  the  causes 
by  which  this  is  primarily  deranged;  but  it  may  be  in- 
teresting to  trace  some  of  the  circumstances  which  bear 
apart  in  producing  the  derangement.  In  our  present 
state  of  being,  we  are  surrounded  with  objects  of  sense ; 
and  the  mind  is  kept,  in  a  great  degree,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  external  things.  In  this  manner  it  often  hap- 
pens, that  facts  and  considerations  elude  our  attention, 
and  deeds  escape  from  our  memory,  in  a  manner  which 
would  not  occur,  were  the  mind  left  at  liberty  to  recall 
its  own  associations,  and  to  feel  the  influence  of  princi- 
ples which  are  really  part  of  the  mental  constitution. 
It  is  thus  that,  amid  the  bustle  of  life,  the  attention  is 
apt  to  be  engrossed  by  considerations  of  a  local  and  an 
inferior  character ;  while  facts  and  motives  of  the 
highest  moment  are  overlooked,  and  deeds  of  our  own, 
long  gone  by,  escape  from  our  remembrance.  We  thus 
lose  a  correct  sense  of  our  moral  condition,  and  yield  to 
the  agency  of  present  and  external  things,  in  a  manner 
disproportioned  to  their  real  value.     For  our  highest 

Is  the  mental  constitution  well  regulated  in  the  generality  of  mankind  7 
Circumstances  pr">ducing  derangement.  Way  in  Avhich  the  senses  influ 
cnce  us  7 

3=^ 


30  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC     I. 

concern  as  moral  beings  is  with  things  future,  a/id 
things  unseen;  and  often  with  circumstances  in  our 
own  moral  history,  long  past,  and  perhaps  forgotten. 
Hence  the  benefit  of  retirement  and  calm  reflection,  and 
of  every  thing  that  tends  to  withdraw  us  from  the  im- 
pression of  sensible  objects,  and  that  leads  us  to  feel 
the  superiority  of  things  which  are  not  seen.  Under 
such  influence,  the  mind  displays  an  astonishing  power 
of  recalling  the  past  and  grasping  the  future,  and  of 
viewing  objects  in  their  true  relations  to  itself  and  to 
each  other.  The  first  of  these,  indeed,  we  see  exem- 
plified in  many  affections,  in  which  the  mind  is  cut  off, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  from  its  intercourse  Avith  the 
external  world,  by  causes  acting  upon  the  bodily  or- 
ganization. In  another  work  I  have  described  many 
remarkable  examples  of  the  mind,  in  this  condition,  re- 
calhng  its  old  impressions  respecting  things  long  past 
and  entirely  forgotten  ;  and  the  facts  there  stated  call 
our  attention  in  a  very  striking  manner  to  its  inherent 
powers  and  its  independent  existence. 

This  subject  is  one  of  intense  interest,  and  suggests 
reflections  of  the  most  important  kind,  respecting  the 
powers  and  properties  of  the  thinking  principle.  In 
particular,  it  leads  us  to  a  period  which  we  are  taught 
to  anticipate  even  by  the  inductions  of  intellectual  sci- 
ence, when,  tlie  bodily  frame  being  dissolved,  the  think- 
ing and  reasoning  essence  shall  exercise  its  peculiar 
faculties  in  a  higher  state  of  being.  There  are  facts  in 
the  mental  phenomena  which  give  a  high   degree  of 

In  what  way  does  retirement  and  calm  reflection  henefit  us  ?  Power  of  the 
mind  in  such  a  case.  Wlial  other  work  referred  to?  Facts  there  stated, 
what  ?  Meaning  of  the  phrase,  "  taught  to  anticipate  by  the  inductions  of 
intellectnal  science."     What  are  we  thus  ta\v.::;ht  to  anticipate  ? 


SEC.    1.]        PHILOSOPHY    OF    THE    MORAL    FEELINGS.  51 

probability  to  the  conjecture,  that  the  whole  transac- 
tions of  life,  with  the  motives  and  moral  history  of  each 
individual,  may  then  be  recalled  by  a  process  of  the 
mind  itself,  and  placed,  as  at  a  single  glance,  distinctly 
before  him.  Were  we  to  realize  such  a  mental  condi- 
tion, we  should  not  fail  to  contemplate  the  impressions 
so  recalled  with  feelings  very  diiferent  from  those  by 
which  we  are  apt  to  be  misled  amid  the  influence  of 
present  and  external  things.  The  tumult  of  life  is 
over: — pursuits,  principles,  and  motives,  which  once 
bore  an  aspect  of  importance,  are  viewed  with  feelings 
more  adapted  to  their  true  value.  The  moral  principle 
recovers  that  authority  which,  amid  the  contests  of 
passion,  had  been  obscured  or  lost; — each  act  and  each 
emotion  is  seen  in  its  relations  to  the  great  dictates  of 
truth,  and  each  pursuit  of  life  in  its  real  bearing  on  the 
great  concerns  of  a  moral  being ; — and  the  whole  as- 
sumes a  character  of  new  and  wondrous  import,  when 
viewed  in  relation  to  that  Incomprehensible  One,  who 
is  then  disclosed  in  all  his  attributes  as  a  moral  governor. 
Time  past  is  contracted  into  a  point,  and  that  the  in- 
fancy of  being ;  time  to  come  is  seen  expanding  into 
eternal  existence. 

Such  are  the  views  which  open  on  him  who  woiild 
inquire  into  the  essence  by  which  man  is  distinguished 
as  a  rational  and  moral  being.  Compared  with  it,  what 
are  all  the  phenomena  of  nature, — what  is  all  the  his- 
tory of  the  world, — the  rise  and  fall  of  empires, — or  the 
fate  of  those  who  rule  them.  These  derive  their  inte- 
rest from  local  and  transient  relations,  but  this  is  to 


Life,  how  regarded  in  future  retrospection  ?    Tir  oortance  of  the  moral  rela 
Ho'As  of  man. 


32  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [SEC.    1. 

exist  forever.  That  science,  therefore,  must  be  consi- 
dered as  the  highest  of  all  human  pursuits,  which  con- 
templates man  in  his  relation  to  eternal  things.  With 
its  importance  we  must  feel  its  difficulties  ;  and,  did  we 
coiiline  the  investigation  to  the  mere  principles  of  natu- 
ral science,  we  should  feel  these  difficulties  to  be  insur- 
mountable. But,  in  this  great  inquiry,  we  have  two 
sources  of  knowledge,  to  which  nothing  analogous  is 
to  be  found  in  the  history  of  physical  science,  and 
which  will  prove  infallible  guides,  if  we  resign  our- 
selves to  their  direction  with  sincere  desire  to  discover 
the  truth.  These  are,  the  light  of  conscience,  and 
the  light  of  divine  revelation.  In  making  this  state- 
ment, I  am  aware  that  t  tread  on  delicate  ground,  and 
that  some  will  consider  an  appeal  to  the  sacred  writings 
as  a  departure  from  the  strict  course  of  philosophical 
inquiry.  This  opinion,  1  am  satisfied,  is  entirely  at  va- 
riance with  truth  ;  and,  in  every  moral  investigation, 
if  we  take  the  inductions  of  sound  philosophy,  along 
with  the  dictates  of  conscience,  and  the  light  of  reveal- 
ed truth,  we  shall  find  them  to  constitute  one  uniform 
and  harmonious  whole,  the  various  parts  of  which  tend, 
in  a  remarkable  manner,  to  establish  and  illustrate  each 
other.  If,  indeed,  in  any  investigation  of  moral  science, 
we  disregard  the  light  which  is  furnished  by  the  sacred 
writings,  we  resemble  an  astronomer  who  should  rely 
entirely  on  his  unaided  sight,  and  reject  those  optical  , 
inventions  whicli  extend  so  remarkably  the  field  of  his  « 
vision,  as    to  be  to  him  the  revelation  of  things  not 


Rank  >f  this  science?  DifficuUies  ?  Peculiar  sources  of  knowieige,  how 
many  ?  What  ?  An  appeal  to  the  sacred  writings,  how  regarded  by  some 
persons  ?     Neglecting  the  light  of  revelation,  compared  to  wnat  ? 


SEC.  I.]  MEANS    OF    CONDUCTING    THE    INQUIRY.  33 

seen.  Could  we  suppose  a  person  thus  entertaining 
doubts  respecting  the  knowledge  supplied  by  the  tele- 
scope, yet  proceeding  in  a  candid  manner  to  inves- 
tigate its  truth,  he  would  perceive,  in  the  telescopic  ol> 
servations  themselves,  principles  developed  which  are 
calculated  to  remove  his  suspicions.  For,  in  the  limit- 
ed knowledge  which  is  furnished  by  vision  alone,  he 
finds  difficulties  which  he  cannot  explain,  apparent  in- 
consistencies which  he  cannot  reconcile,  and  insulated 
facts  which  he  cannot  refer  to  any  known  principle. 
But,  in  the  more  extended  knowledge  which  the  telescope 
yields,  these  difficulties  disappear;  facts  are  brought 
together  which  seemed  unconnected  or  discordant ;  and 
the  universe  appears  one  beautiful  system  of  order  and 
consistency.  It  is  the  same  in  the  experience  of  the 
moral  inquirer,  when  he  extends  his  views  beyond  the 
inductions  of  reason,  and  corrects  his  conclusions  by 
the  testimony  of  God.  Discordant  principles  are  brought 
together  ;  doubts  and  difficulties  disappear ;  and  beauty, 
order,  and  harmony  are  seen  to  pervade  the  government 
of  the  Deity.  In  this  manner  there  also  arises  a  species 
of  evidence  for  the  doctrines  of  revelation,  which  is  en- 
tirely independent  of  the  external  proofs  of  its  divine 
origin;  and  which,  to  the  candid  mind,  invests  it  with 
all  the  character  of  authenticity  and  truth. 

From  these  combined  sources  of  knowledge,  thus 
illustrating  and  confirming  each  other,  we  are  enabled 
to  attain,  in  moral  inquiries,  a  degree  of  certainty  adapt- 
ed to  their  high  importance.     We  do  so  when,  with 

Effect  of  tlie  use  of  the  telescope  in  removing  difBculties?  Effect  in  mora' 
M'.icnce  of  resorting  to  the  light  of  revelation  ?  Are  these  combined  sources 
»iilTicient  ? 


34  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC.    11.1 

sincere  desire  to  discover  the  truth,  we  resign  ourselves' 
to  the  guidance  of  the  hght  which  is  wilh.n,  aided  as  it- 
is  by  that  hght  from  heaven  which  shines  upon  the' 
path  of  the  humble  inquirer.     Cultivated  on  these  prin-' 
ciples,  the  science  is  fitted  to  engage  the  most  powerful 
mind ;  while  it  will  impart  strength  to  the  most  com- 
mon understanding.     It  terminates  in  no  barren  specu- 
lations, but  tends  directly  to  promote  peace  on  earth, 
and  good- will  among  men.     It  is  calculated  both  to  en- 
large the  understanding,  and  to  elevate  and  purify  the 
feelings,  and  thus  to  cultivate  the  moral  being  for  the 
life  which  is  to  come.     It  spreads  forth  to  the  view, be- 
coming smoother  and  brighter  the  farther  it  is  pursued  ; 
and  the  rays  which  illuminate  the  path  converge  in  the 
throne  of  him  who  is  eternal. 


SECTION       II 


OF    FIRST  TRUTHS    IN     THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    THE    MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

The  knowledge  which  we  receive  tlirough  our  intel- 
lectual powers  is  referable  to  two  classes.  These  may 
be  distinguished  by  the  names  of  acquired  knowledge, 
and  intuitive  or  fundamental  articles  of  belief 

It  may  be  Avell  to  make  to  the  pupil  one  or  two  general 
statements  in  respect  to  the  origin  of  our  knowledge,  which 

What  are  the  two  sources  of  knowledge  alliuli'd  to  ?  To  what  minds  is  the 
cultivation  of  the  science  adapted       Prat-tit  a!  vlTi\-{  of  iho  siitdv  ? 


SEC.       II.]  FIRST    TRUTHS    IN    MORAL    SCIENCE.  35 

will  make  what  follows  in  this  chapter  more  clear.  Human 
knowledge  may  then,  in  the  first  place,  be  referred  to  two 
great  classes.  ^ 

I.  That  which  we  receive  by  the  senses,  seeing,  hearing,  &;c. 

II.  That  which  we  receive  by  the  intellectual  powers,  rea- 
soning, reflection,  &c. 

The  knowledge  that  grass  is  green,  and  that  lead  is  heavy, 
and  vinegar  sour,  comes  under  the  former  of  these  heads. 
Our  knowledge  of  the  properties  of  the  triangle,  and  of  the 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  comes  under  the  latter.  This  dis- 
tinction is  clearly  pointed  out  and  illustrated  in  the  author's 
Treatise  on  Intellectual  Philosophy.  It  is  only  the  second  of 
the  two  heads  which  is  considered  in  this  chapter.  Hence  it 
commences,  "  The  knowledge  which  we  receive  through  our 
intellectual  powers  is  referable,"  &c. ;  so  that  the  two  classes 
spoken  of  in  this  chapter  is  only  a  subdivision  of  the  second 
great  branch  into  which  the  sources  of  knowledge  are  divided. 
The  subdivision  is,  as  the  pupil  will  perceive, 

1.  Knowledge  which  is  acquired. 

2.  Knowledge  which  is  intuitive. 

Our  conviction  that  playing  games  of  hazard,  for  money, 
is  wrong,  is  an  example  of  the  first  class  ;  that  is,  it  is  acquired. 
We  obtain'  it  by  a  long  course  of  observation  of  the  deleterious, 
influences  of  such  a  practice,  or  else  by  carefully  considering 
the  nature  and  probable  tendencies  of  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  our  belief  that  maliciously  giving  pain 
to  one  who  has  never  injured  us,  is  wrong,  is  an  example  of 
the  second  class ;  that  is,  it  is  intuitive.  The  mind  sees  the 
truth  at  once,  without  any  train  of  investigation  or  reasoning. 

Which  part  of  these  remarks  is  written  by  the  author,  and  which  by  the 
American  editor  ?  First  great  division  of  the  sources  of  knowledge  ?  Exam- 
ples of  knowledge  acquired  by  the  senses?  By  the  intellectual  powers? 
Which  class  treated  of  in  this  chapter?  Subdivision  of  it?  Example  of 
acquired  knowledge  ?     Example  of  intuitive  knowledge  ? 


I 

36  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC.  II.    | 

It  is  impossible  to  prove  it.  It  is  in  itself  more  simple  than 
any  thing  by  which  it  could  be  proved. 

Now  in  all  sciences,  the  first  step  is,  to  point  out  and  define 
the  intuitive  truths,  or  first  principles,  as  they  are  sometimes 
called,  i.  e.,  those  which  the  mind  receives  at  once,  the  mo- 
ment they  are  presented,  without  any  train  of  reasoning  or 
investigation  to  establish  them.  These  are  made  the  basis  on 
which  all  the  other  truths  of  the  science  are  established. 
Thus  in  Geometry,  for  example,  the  first  principles  are  always 
laid  down  at  the  outset,  without  proof.  They  are  called  axi- 
oms. They  are  such  as  these :  Things  which  are  equal  to 
the  same  things  are  equal  to  one  another,  and  the  ivhole  is 
greater  than  a  part.  The  pupil  will  perceive  that  the  truth 
of  the  axioms  is  perceived  by  the  mind  intuitively ;  that  is,  at 
once,  without  any  train  of  reasoning  to  establish  them.  In 
fact,  they,  and  others  like  them,  are  the  elements  of  the  rea- 
soning by  which  all  other  truths  are  to  be  proved. 

In  the  same  way  in  all  the  other  sciences,  the  first  thing  is 
to  lay  down  the  first  truths,  that  is,  those  which  are  iiituitively 
perceived  by  the  mind,  and  which  are  the  foundation  of  all 
that  follow.  It  is  the  object  of  this  chapter  to  point  out  the 
nature  of  them,  and  to  enumerate  those  which  appertain  to 
moral  philosophy. 

Onr  acquired  knowledge  is  procured  by  the  active 
use  of  our  mental  powers,  in  collecting  facts,  tracing 
their  relations,  and  observing  the  deductions  which 
arise  out  of  particular  combinations  of  them.  These 
constitute  the  operations  which  I  have  referred  to  in 
another  work,  under  the  heads  of  processes  of  invcsti 

First  step  in  all  sciences  ?  Nature  of  first  truths  ?  Connection  with  othei 
truths?  Examples  of  them  in  Goometrj' ?  Name  criven  to  them  in  Ge- 
ometry? Object  of  this  chapter?  Acquired  knowledge,  how  prooired  ?  By 
wliat    wo  processes  ? 


SEC.    II.]  FIRST    TRUTHS    1^    MORAL    SCIENCE.  37 

gation,  and  processes  of  reasoning.  The  full  exercise 
of  Ihem  requires  a  certain  culture  of  the  mental  facul- 
ties, and  consequently  is  confined  to  a  comparatively 
small  number  of  men.  We  perceive,  however,  that 
such  culture  is  not  essential  to  every  mdividual,  for 
many  are  very  deficient  in  it  who  yet  are  considered  as 
persons  of  sound  mind,  and  capable  of  discharging  their 
duties  in  various  situations  of  life  in  a  creditable  ctnd 
useful  manner. 

But  the  knowledge  which  we  derive  from  the  other 
source  is  of  immediate  and  essential  importance  to  men 
of  every  degree ;  and,  without  it,  no  individual  could 
engage,  with  confidence,  in  any  of  the  common  trans- 
actions of  life,  or  make  any  provision  for  his  protection 
or  comfort,  or  even  for  the  continuance  of  his  existence. 
These  are  the  principles  also  treated  of,  in  a  former 
work,  under  the  name  of  First  Truths.  They  are  not, 
like  our  knowledge  of  the  other  kind,  the  result  of  any 
process  either  of  investigation  or  of  reasoning ;  and,  for 
the  possession  of  them,  no  man  either  depends  upon  his 
own  observation,  or  has  recourse  to  that  of  other  men. 
They  area  part  of  his  mental  constitution,  arising,  with 
a  feeling  of  absolute  certainty,  in  every  sound  mind; 
and,  while  they  admit  of  no  proof  by  processes  of  rea- 
soning, sophistical  objections  brought  against  them  can 
be  combated  only  by  an  appeal  to  the  consciousness  of 
every  man,  and  to  the  absolute  conviction  which  forces 
itself  upon  the  whole  mass  of  mankind. 

If  the  Creator  has  thus  implanted  in  the  mind  of  man 

Is  the  exercise  of  these  operations  universal  ?  Why  not  ?  Importance  of 
knowledge  derived  from  the  other  source  ?  By  what  name  are  those  intuitive 
principles  called  in  the  author's  former  work?  What  work  alluded  to? 
Author's  remarks  about  the  nature  of  these  truths.  * 

4 


38  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [SEC.    U 

principles  to.  guide  him  in  his  intellectual  and  ph^^sical 
relations,  independently  of  any.  acquired  knowledge, 
we  might  naturally  expect  to  find  him  endowed,  in  the 
same  manner,  with  principles  adapted  to  his  more  im- 
portant relations  as  a  moral  being.  We  might  natu- 
rally expect,  that  in  these  high  concerns,  he  would  not 
be  left  to  the  knowledge  which  he  might  casually  ac- 
quire, either  through  his  own  powers  of  investigation 
or  reasoning,  or  through  instruction  received  from  other 
men.  Impressions  adapted  to  this  important  end  we 
accordingly  find  developed  in  a  remarkable  manner, 
and  they  are  referable  to  that  part  of  our  constitution 
which  holds  so  important  a  place  in  the  philosophy  of 
the  mind,  by  which  we  perceive  differences  in  the  mo- 
ral aspect  of  actions,  and  approve  or  disapprove  of  them 
as  right  or  wrong.  The  convictions  derived  from  this 
source  seem  to  occupy  the  same  place  in  the  moral 
system,  that  first  truths,  or  intuitive  articles  of  belief, 
do  in  the  intellectual.  Like  them,  also,  they  admit  of 
no  direct  proofs  by  processes  of  reasoning;  and,  when 
sophistical  arguments  are  brought  against  them,  the 
only  true  answer  consists  in  an  appeal  to  the  conscience 
of  every  uncontaminated  mind  ;  by  which  we  mean 
chiefly  the  consciousness  of  its  own  moral  impressions, 
in  a  mind  which  has  not  been  degraded  in  its  moral 
perceptions  by  a  course  of  personal  depravity.  This 
iS  a  consideration  of  the  utmost  practical  importance; 
and  it  will  probably  appear  that  many  well-intended 
arguments,  respecting  tlie  first  principles  of  moral  truth, 
have  been  inconclusive,  in  the  same  manner  as  were 

Should  we  expect  first  princii)lfs  in  moral  science  to  be  implanted  in  the 
mind?  Why?  Do  these  first  principles  admit  of  proof?  Proper  reply  to 
RrcjLments  against  ^lem  ? 


iEC.    II.]  FIRST    TRUTHS    IN    MORAL    SCIENCE.  39 

attempts  to  establish  first  truths  by  processes  of  reason- 
ing, because  the  hue  of  argument  adopted  in  regard  to 
them  was  one  of  which  they  are  not  susceptible.  The 
force  of  this  analogy  is  in  no  degree  weakened  by  the 
fact,  that  there  is,  in  many  cases,  an  apparent  difference 
between  that  part  of  our  mental  constitution  on  which 
is  founded  our  conviction  of  first  truths,  and  that  prin- 
ciple from  which  is  derived  our  impression  of  moral 
truth :  for  the  former  continues  the  same  in  every 
mind  which  is  neither  obscured  by  idiocy  nor  distorted 
by  insanity  ;  but  the  moral  feelings  become  vitiated  by 
a  process  of  the  mind  itself,  by  which  it  has  gradually 
gone  astray  from  rectitude.  Hence  the  difference 
we  find  in  the  decisions  of  different  men,  respecting 
moral  truth,  arising  from  peculiarities  in  their  own  men- 
tal condition ;  and  hence  that  remarkable  obscuration 
of  mind,  at  which  some  men  at  length  arrive,  by  which 
the  judgment  is  entirely  perverted  respecting  the  first 
great  principles  of  moral  purity.  When,  therefore,  we 
appeal  to  certain  principles  in  the  mental  constitution, 
as  the  source  of  our  first  impressions  of  moral  truth, 
our  appeal  is  made  chiefly  to  a  mind  which  is  neither 
obscured  by  depravity,  nor  bewildered  by  the  refine- 
ments of  a  false  philosophy  :  it  is  made  to  a  mind  in 
which  conscience  still  holds  some  degree  of  its  rightful 
authority,  and  in  which  there  is  a  sincere  and  honest 
desire  to  discover  the  truth.  These  two  elements  of 
character  must  go  together  in  eve^y  correct  inquiry  in 
moral  science ;  and,  to  a  man  in  an  opposite  condition, 

A  J  parent  difference  betv/een  first  truths  in  intellectual  science,  and  first 
principles  in  moral  science  1  Can  either  be  ever  eradicated  from  the  mind  ? 
Which  ?    In  w  \at  way  are  they  eradicated  or  corrupted  ? 


40  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [SEC.    H. 

we  should  no  more  appeal,  in  regard  to  the  principles 
of  moral  truth,  than  we  should  take  from  the  fatuous 
person  or  the  maniac  oui  test  of  those  first  principles 
of  intellectual  truth,  which  are  allowed  to  be  original 
elements  of  belief  in  every  sound  mind. 

To  remedy  the  evils  arising  from  this  diversity  and 
distortion  of  moral  perception,  ic  one  of  the  objects  of 
divine  revelation.  By  means  of  it  there  is  introduced 
a  fixed  and  uniform  standard  of -moral  truth  ;  but,  it  is 
of  importance  to  remark,  that,  for  the  authority  of  this, 
an  appeal  is  made  to  principles  in  the  mind  itself,  and 
that  every  part  of  it  challenges  the  assent  of  the  man 
m  whom  conscience  has  not  lost  its  power  in  the  men- 
tal economy. 

Keeping  in  view  the  distinction  which  has  now  been 
referred  to,  it  would  appear,  chat  there  are  certain  first 
principles  of  moral  truth,  which  arise  in  the  mind  by 
the  most  simple  process  of  reflection,  either  as  consti- 
tuting its  own  primary  moral  convictions,  or  as  follow- 
ing from  its  consciousness  of  these  convictions  by  a 
plain  and  obvious  chain  of  relations.  These  are  chiefly 
the  following. 

1.  A  perception  of  the  nature  and  quality  of  actions,  as 
]ust  or  unjust,  right  or  wrong ;  and  a  conviction  of 
certain  duties,  as  of  justice,  veracity,  and  benevolence, 
which  every  man  owes  to  his  fellow-men.  Every  man 
in  his  own  case,  again,  expects  the  same  ofiices  from 
others;  and  on  this  reciprocity  of  feeling  is  founded 

Oltject  of  divine  revelation.  What  is  introduced  into  it  ?  What  appeal  of- 
ten made  in  the  Scriptures  7  Result  of  llie  foregoing  considerations  7  Whal 
W  the  first  of  these  elementary  principles  i 


SEC.  II.]  FIRST  TRUTHS  IN  MORAL  SCIENCE.  41 

the  precept,  which'is  felt  to  be  one  of  universal  obliga- 
tion, to  do  to  others  as  we  would  that  they  should  do 
to  us. 

II.  From  this  primary  moral  impression,  there 
arises,  by  a  most  natural  sequence,  a  conviction  of  the 
existence  and  superintendence  of  a  great  moral  Governor 
of  the  universe,  a  being  of  infinite  perfection  and  infi- 
nite purity.  A  belief  in  this  Being,  as  the  first  great 
cause,  is  derived,  as  we  have  formerly  seen,  by  a  sim- 
ple step  of  reasoning,  from  a  survey  of  the  works  of  na- 
ture, taken  in  connection  with  the  first  truth,  that 
every  event  must  have  an  adequate  cause.  Our  sense 
of  his  moral  attributes  arises,  with  a  feeling  of  equal 
certainty,  when,  from  the  moral  impressions  of  our  own 
minds,  we  infer  the  mora]  attributes  of  him  who  thus 
formed  us. 

III.  From  these  combined  impressions,  there  natu- 
rally springs  a  sense  of  moral  responsibility  ;  or  a  con- 
viction, that,  for  the  due  performance  of  the  duties 
which  are  indicated  by  the  conscience,  or  moral  con- 
sciousness, man  is  responsible  to  the  Governor  of  the 
universe  ;  and  farther,  that  to  this  Being  he  owes,  more 
Immediately,  a  certain  homage  of  the  moral  feelings, 
entirely  distinct  from  the  duties  which  he  owes  to  his 
fellow-men.    . 

lY.  From  this  chain  of  moral  convictions,  it  is  im- 
possible to  separate  a  deep  impression  of  continued  ex- 
istence, or  of  a  state  of  being  beyond  the  present  life, 
and  of  that  as  a  state  of  moral  retribution. 

Second  principle  ?  Is  this  strictly  intuitive  ?  How  derived  ?  Our  ideas 
of  moral  attributes  of  the  Deity?  Third  principle  ?  Nature  of  it  7  Fourth 
principle,  relating  to  a  future  existence. 

4# 


42  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC.  H. 

The  consideration  of  these  important  objects  of  beUef 
will  afterwards  occur  to  us  in  various  parts  of  our  in- 
quiry. They  are  briefly  stated  here,  in  reference  to 
the  place  which  they  hold  as  First  Truths,  or  primary 
articles  of  moral  belief,  which  arise  by  a  natural  and 
obvious  chain  of  sequence,  in  the  moral  conviction  of 
every  sound  understanding.  For  the  truth  of  them  we 
appeal  not  to  any  process  of  reasoning,  properly  so 
called:  but  to  the  conviction  which  forces  itself  upon 
every  regulated  mind.  Neither  do  we  go  abroad  among 
savage  nations,  to  inquire  whether  the  impression  of 
them  be  universal ;  for  this  may  be  obscured  in  com- 
munities, as  it  is  in  individuals,  by  a  course  of  moral  ^ 
degradation.  We  appeal  to  the  casuist  himself,  whe-  ^ 
ther,  in  the  calm  moment  of  reflection,  he  can  divest 
Itimself  of  their  power.  We  appeal  to  the  feelings  of 
the  man  who,  under  the  consciousness  of  guilt,  shrinks 
from  the  dread  of  a  present  Deity,  and  the  anticipation 
of  a  future  reckoning.  But  chiefly  we  appeal  to  the 
conviction  of  him,  in  whom  conscience  retains  its  right- 
ful supremacy,  and  who  habitually  cherishes  these  mo- 
mentous truths,  as  his  guides  in  this  life  in  its  relation 
to  the  life  that  is  to  come. 

In  applying  to  these  important  articles  of  belief  the 
name  of  First  Truths,  or  primary  principles  of  moral 
conviction,  I  do  not  mean  to  ascribe  to  them  any  thing 
of  the  nature  of  innate  ideas.  I  mean  only  that  they 
arise,  with  a  rapid  or  instantaneous  conviction,  entirely 
distinct  from  what  we  call  a  process  of  reasoning,  in 

Are  these  truths  to  be  hereafter  considered  more  fully?  Why  then  are 
ihoy  mentioned  here  ?  The  ground  of  our  hclief  of  thorn?  Is  belief  of  thcni 
universal  ?  Why  not  ?  Can  nuo  whose  moral  powers  have  not  becoma  'o'- 
nipli'd,  liciutit  Ihoiii  ? 


SEC.  II.]  FIRST    TRUTHS    IN    MORAL    SCIENCE.  43 

every  regulated  mind,  when  it  is  directed,  by  the  most 
simple  course  of  reflection,  to  the  phenomena  of  nature 
without,  and  to  the  moral  feelings  of  which  it  is  con- 
scious within.  It  appears  to  be  a  point  of  the  utmost 
practical  importance,  that  we  should  consider  them  as 
thus  arising  out  of  principles  which  form  a  part  of  our 
moral  constitution ;  as  it  is  in  this  way  only  that  we 
can  consider  them  as  calculated  to  influence  the  mass 
of  mankind.  For,  if  we  do  not  believe  them  to  arise, 
in  this  manner,  by  the  spontaneous  exercise  of  every 
uncorrupted  mind,  there  are  only  two  methods  by 
which  we  can  suppose  them  to  originate :  the  one  is  a 
direct  revelation  from  the  Deity ;  the  other  is  a  process 
of  reasoning  or  of  investigation,  properly  so  called, 
analogous  to  that  by  which  we  acquire  the  knowledge 
of  any  principle  in  natural  science.  We  cannot  believe 
that  they  are  derived  entirely  from  revelation,  because 
we  find  the  belief  existing  where  no  revelation  is  known, 
and  because  we  find  the  sacred  writers  appealing  to 
them  as  sources  of  conviction  existing  in  the  mental 
constitution  of  every  man.  There  is  an  obvious  ab- 
surdity, again,  in  supposing  that  principles  which  are 
to  regulate  the  conduct  of  responsible  beings,  should  be 
left  to  the  chance  of  being  unfolded  by  processes  of  rea- 
soning, in  which  diflferent  minds  may  arrive  at  diflerent 
conclusions,  and  in  regard  to  which  many  are  incapa- 
ble of  following  out  any  argument  at  all.  What  is 
called  the  argument  a />r/ori  for  the  existence  and  attri- 
butes of  the  Deity,  for  instance,  conveys  little  that  is 


Why  are  they  to  be  considered  as  first  truths  ?     What  are  the  only  two 
other  ways  of  accounting  for  our  belief  of  ihem  ?     Difficulty  in  regard  to  the 

first  ?    to  the  second  ?     Value  of  argument  on  these  truths.     ^4  priori 

argument  to  prove  the  existence  of  the  Deity. 


44  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC.  H. 

c^ncliisve  to  most  minds,  and  to  many  is  entirely  in- 
con.prehensible.     The  same  observation  may  be   ap- 
plied to  those  well-intended  and  able  arguments,  by  , 
which  the  probability  of  a  future  state  is  shown  from  ; 
analogy  and  from  the  constitution  of  the  mind.     These 
are  founded  chiefly  on  three  considerations, — the  ten- 
dency of  virtue  to  produce  happiness,  and  of  vice  to  be 
followed  by  misery, — the  unequal  distribution  of  good  | 
and  evil  in  the  present  life, — and  the  adaptation  of  our  | 
moral  faculties  to  a  state  of  being  very  different  from 
that   in  which  we   are  at  present  placed.     There  is 
much  in  these  arguments  calculated  to  elevate  our  con- 
ceptions of  our  condition  as  moral  beings,  and  of  that 
future  state  of  existence  for  which  we  are  destined; 
and  there  is  much  scope  for  the  highest  powers  of  rea- 
soning, in  showing  the  accordance  of  these  truths  with  .' 
the  soundest  inductions  of  true  philosophy.     But,  not- 
withstanding  all  their  truth  and  all  their  utility,  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  they  are  to  any  one  the  foimdation  i 
of  his  faith  in  another  state  of  being.     It  must  be  ad-  • 
mitted,  at  least,  that  their  force  is  felt  by  those  only 
whose  minds  have  been  in  some  degree  trained  to  ha-  _ 
bits   of  reasoning,    and   that   they   are   therefore   not  T 
adapted   to    the   mass   of  mankind.     But   the   truths 
which  they  are   intended  to  establish  are  of  eternal  ' 
importance  to  men  of  every  degree,   and  we  should  i 
therefore   expect   them   to   rest  upon  evidence  which  i 
finds  its  way  with  unerring  aim  to  the  hearts  of  the 

Are  <x  priori  arguments  in  favor  of  a  future  state  conclusive?     (For  the  a! 
nature  of  "  a  priori  arsjuments,"  sec  some  treatise  on  logic.)     On  -vhat  three  ' 
considerations  founded  ?     Proper  effect   of  lliem  ?     Are  they  sufficient  as  ^ 
n  foundation  Tor  our  faith  ?    Arc  they  or  not  adapted  to  the  mass  of  mau' 
kind  ? 


SEC.  II.]  FIRST  TRUTHS  IN  MORAL  SCIENCE.  45 

unlearned.  The  unanswerable  reasonings  of  Butlei 
never  reached  the  ear  of  the  gray-haired  pious  pea- 
sant ;  but  he  needs  not  their  powerful  aid  to  establish 
his  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  blessed  immortality. 
It  is  no  induction  of  logic  that  has  transfixed  the  heart 
of  the  victim  of  deep  remorse,  when  he  withers  be- 
neath an  influence  unseen  by  human  eye,  and  shrinks 
from  the  anticipation  of  a  reckoning  to  come.  In  both, 
the  evidence  is  within, — a  part  of  the  original  constitu- 
tion of  every  rational  mind,  planted  there  by  him  who 
framed  the  wondrous  fabric.  This  is  the  power  of 
conscience; — with  an  authority,  whicli  no  man  can 
put  away  from  him,  it  pleads  at  once  for  his  own  fu- 
ture existence,  and  for  the  moral  attributes  of  an  omni ' 
potent  and  ever-present  Deity.  In  a  healthy  state  of 
the  moral  feelings,  the  man  recognises  its  claim  to 
supreme  dominion.  Amid  the  degradation  of  guilt,  it 
still  raises  its  voice  and  asserts  its  right  to  govern  the 
whole  man ;  and,  though  its  warnings  are  disregarded, 
and  its  claims  disallowed,  it  proves  within  his  inmost 
soul  an  accuser  that  cannot  be  stilled,  and  an  avenging 
spirit  that  never  is  quenched. 

Similar  observations  apply  to  the  uniformity  of  mo- 
ral distinctions,  or  the  conviction  of  a  certain  line  of 
conduct  which  man  owes  to  his  fellow-men.  There 
have  been  many  controversies  and  various  contending 
systems  in  reference  to  this  subject ;  but- 1  submit  that 
the  question  may  be  disposed  of  in  the  same  manner  as 
the  one  now  mentioned.  Certain  fixed  and  defined 
principles  of  relative  duty  appear  to  be  recognised  by 

\Vhat  work  of  Butler  is  alluded  to  ?     What  evidence  has  every  man  of  a 
judgrnent  to  come  ?     Power  and  permanence  of  conscience  ? 


46  PRELIMINARY    OBSERVATIONS.  [sEC.  II.    ^ 

the  consent  of  mankind,  as  an  essential  part  of  their  : 
moral  constitution,  by  as  absolute  a  conviction  as  that  ■> 
by  v,'hich  are  recognised  our   bodily  qualities.     The  b 
hardened  criminal,  whose  life  has  been  a  series  of  in- 
justice and  fraud,  when  at  length  brought  into  circum- 
stances which  expose  him  to  the  knowledge  or   the 
retribution  of  his  fellow-men,  expects  from  them  vera-;^ 
city  and  justice,  or  perhaps  even  throws  himself  upon 
their  mercy.     He  thus  recognises  such  principles  as  a  i; 
part  of  the  moral  constitution,  just  as  the  blind  man,  ^ ) 
when  he  has  missed  his  way,  asks  direction  of  the  first  c 
person  he  meets,  presuming  upon  the  latter  possessing  | 
a  sense  which,  though  lost  to  him,  he  still  considers  as  ^ 
belonging  to  every  sound  man.     In  defending  himself,,  i^ 
also,  the  criminal  shows  the  same  recognition.     For,   il 
his  object  is  to  disprove  the  alleged  facts,  or  to  frame  ^ 
excuses  for  his  conduct ; — he  never  attempts  to  ques- 
tion those  universal  principles  by  which  he  feels  that 
his  actions  must  be  condemned,  if  the  facts  are  proved    ^ 
against  him.     Without  such  principles,  indeed,   thus   » 
universally  recognised,  it   is  evident  that   the  whole   \ 
system  of  human  things  would  go  into  confusion  and 
ruin.     Human  laws  may  restrain  or  punish  gross  acts 
of  violence  and  injustice ;  but  they  can  never  provide 
for  numberless  methods  by  which  a  man  may  injure^ 
his  neighbor,  or  promote  his  OAvn  interest  at  the  ex 
pense  of  others.     There  are,  in  fact,  but  a  very  few 
cases  which  can  be-  provided  for  by  any  human  insti- 
tution ;  it  is  a  principle  within  that  regulates  the  whole 

Are  there  certain  fixed  principles  of  duty  recognised  by  mankind  ?    Exam- 
ple oi  this  ?     The  criminal's  mode  of  defence  ?     Inference  from  this?     Ne- 
cessity of  such  principles  ?     Would  human  laws  be  sufficient  without  them  ''      - 
Why  not  ? 


SEC.  II. J  FIRST  TRUTHS  IN  MORAL  SCIENCE.  47 

moral  economy.  In  its  extent  and  importance,  when 
compared  with  all  the  devices  of  man,  it  may  be  Hkened 
fo  those  great  principles  which  guide  the  movements 
of  the  universe,  contrasted  with  the  contrivances  by 
which  men  produce  particular  results  for  their  own 
convenience ;  and  one  might  as  well  expect  to  move  a 
planet  by  machinery,  or  propel  a  comet  by  the  power 
of  steam,  as  to  preserve  the  semblance  of  order  in  the 
moral  world,  without  those  fundamental  principles  of 
rectitude  which  form  a  part  of  the  original  constitution 
01  every  rational  being. 

jf'arther,  as  each  man  has  the  consciousness  of  these 
principles  in  himself,  he  has  the  conviction  that  similar 
principles  exist  in  others.  Hence  arises  the  impression, 
that,  as  he  judges  of  their  conduct  by  his  own  moral 
feelings,  so  will  they  judge  of  him  by  corresponding 
feelmgs  in  themselves.  In  this  manner  is  produced 
that  reciprocity  of  moral  impression,  by  which  a  man 
feels  the  opinion  of  his  fellow-men  to  be  either  a  re- 
ward or  a  punishment;  and  hence  also  springs  that 
great  rule  of  relative  duty,  which  teaches  us  to  do  to 
others  as  we  would  that  they  should  do  to  us.  This 
uniformity  of  moral  feelmg  and  affection  even  proves  a 
check  upon  those  who  have  subdued  the  influence  of 
these  feelings  m  themselves.  Thus,  a  man  who  has 
thrown  off  all  sense  of  justice,  compassion,  or  benevo- 
lence, is  still  kept  under  a  certain  degree  of  control  by 
the  conviction  of  these  impressions  existing  in  those 
by  whom  he  is  surrounded.     There  are  indeed  men  in 

To  what  are  these  principles  compared  ?  Conviction  of  the  mind  in  re 
spect  to  the  principles  of  others  ?  What  moral  effects  spring  from  this  1 
Moral  restraint  exerted  by  it  ? 


48  PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATIONS.  [SEC.  11.1,; 

the  world,  as  has  been  remarked  by  Butler,  in  whorai" 
this  appears  to  be  the  only  restraint  to  which  theirr 
conduct  is  subjected.  \ 

Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  there  seems  to  be  ground  :' 
for  assuming,  that  the  articles  of  belief,  which  have, 
been  the  subject  of  the  preceding  observations,  are  pri-. 
mary  principles  arising  with  an  immediate  feeling  of 
conviction  in  our  moral  constitution;    and  that   they' 
correspond  with  those  elements  in  our  intellectual  eco-  i 
nomy,   which  are  commonly  called   First   Truths, — 
principles  which  are  now  universally  admitted  to  re-, 
quire   no   other   evidence   than  the  conviction  whicQi 
Ibrces  itself  upon  every  sound  understanding. 

Siimrnary. 


PHILOSOPHY 


OF 


THE   MORAL   FEELINGS. 


The  preceding  sections  of  this  work  have  been  only  prelt' 
minary.  They  have  related  to  the  nature  of  the  science 
itself,  and  to  those  great  First  Principles,  or  Elementary 
Truths,  on  which  the  whole  science  must  be  based.  The 
author  now  first  enters  upon  the  main  subject.  He  accord- 
ingly first  analyzes  man  as  a  moral  being,  and  from  this 
analysis  deduces  the  plan  which  he  shall  pursue  in  the  work; 
and  then,  in  the  succeeding  sections,  considers  the  subject 
according  to  its  several  divisions.  It  is  important  that  the 
pupil  should  keep  distinctly  in  view^  as  he  proceeds,  the  plan 
and  progress  of  the  discussion. 

When  we  analyze  the  principles  which  distinguish 
man  as  a  moral  being,  our  attention  is  first  directed  to 
his  actions,  as  the  external  phenomena  by  which  we 

Nature  of  the  precediug^  sections.  To  what  two  preliminary  topics  have 
they  related  ?  Does  the  author,  or  not,  now  enter  upon  the  main  subject  ? 
Meaning  of  anaZi/ze ?  What  deduced  from  the  analysis?  To  what  is  th«» 
attention  first  directed  in  the  analysis? 


50  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS 

judge  of  his  internal  principles.  It  is  familiar  to  every 
one,  however,  that  the  same  action  may  proceed  from 
very  different  motives,  and  that,  when  we  have  the 
means  of  estimating  motives  or  principles,  it  is  from 
these  that  we  form  our  judgment  respecting  the  moral 
condition  of  the  individual,  and  not  from  his  actions 
alone.  When  we  consider  separately  the  elements 
which  enter  into  the  economy  of  an  intelligent  and 
responsible  agent,  they  seem  to  resolve  themselves  into 
the  following : — 

I.  His  actual  conduct,  or  actions. 

II.  In  determining  his  conduct,  the  immediate  prin- 
ciple is  his  will,  or  simple  volition.  He  wills  some 
act,  and  the  act  follows  of  course,  unless  it  be  pro- 
vented  by  restraint  from  without,  or  by  physical  ina- 
bility to  perform  it.  These  alone  can  interfere  with  a 
man  following  the  determination  of  his  will,  or  simple 
volition. 

III.  The  objects  of  will  or  simple  volition  are  refera- 
ble to  two  classes, — objects  to  be  obtained,  and  ac- 
tions to  be  performed  to  others;  and  these  are  con- 
nected with  two  distinct  mental  conditions,  which  exist 
previously  to  the  act  of  volition.  In  regard  to  objects 
to  be  obtained,  this   mental   condition  is  Desire;   in 

How  are  actions  to  he  regarded  ?  Docs  the  same  action  always  proceed 
from  the  same  motives  ?  Judg^nent  in  respect  to  moral  condition  to  he 
formed  from  what?  First  element  to  he  considered.  Second  clement. 
Do  the  actions  always  ohcy  the  volitions?  The  only  exception,  what  7 
Third  element.  Two  classes  of  objects  of  the  will?  What  two  mental 
conditions  correspond  in  i?  to  them?  Which  of  these  rHates  to  objects  to  b« 
olilainod  ?     Which  to  actions  towards  others? 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS.         51 

legard  to  actions  towards  others,  it  is  Affection.  The 
Desires  and  Affections,  therefore,  hold  a  place  in  the 
mind  previous  to  volition.  From  one  of  them  origi- 
nates the  mental  state  which,  under  certain  regulations, 
leads  to  volition,  or  to  our  willing  a  certain  act.  The 
act,  which  is  then  the  result  of  the  volition,  consists 
either  in  certain  eiforts  towards  attaining  the  object 
desired,  or  in  certain  conduct  towards  other  men, 
arising  out  of  our  affections  or  mental  feelings  towards 
them.  The  Desires  and  Affections,  therefore,  may  be 
considered  as  the  primary  or  moving  powers,  from 
which  our  actions  proceed.  In  connection  with  them 
we  have  to  keep  in  view  another  principle,  which  has 
an  extensive  influence  on  our  conduct  in  regard  to  both 
these  classes  of  emotions.  This  is  Self-love;  which 
leads  us  to  seek  our  own  protection,  comfort,  and  ad- 
vantage. It  is  a  sound  and  legitimate  principle  of 
action  when  kept  in  its  proper  place ;  when  allowed 
to  usurp  an  undue  influence,  it  degenera.tes  mto  sel- 
fishness; and  It  then  interferes  in  a  material  degree 
with  the  exercise  of  the  affections,  or,  in  other  words, 
with  our  duty  to  other  men. 

IV.  We  have  next  to  attend  to  the  fact,  that  every 
desire  is  not  followed  by  actual  volition  towards  obtain- 
ing the  object ;  and  that  every  affection  does  not  lead 
to  the  conduct  which  misht  flow  from  it.     Thus  a  man 


Are  they  to  be  considered  as  previous,  or  subsequent  to  volitions  ?  What 
is  meant  by  this?  Which  are  to  he  considered  the  primary  or  moving  pow- 
ers ?  What  other  principle  to  be  kept  in  view  in  connection  with  them  ?  Its 
nature  ?  When  excessive  what  does  it  become  ?  Fourth  element  of  inquiry. 
Are  the  Desires  and  Affections  always  effectual  in  leading  to  volition  and 
set  ion? 


62  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEiXINGS. 

may  feel  a  desire  which,  after  consideration,  he  deter- 
mines not  to  gratify.  Another  may  experience  an 
affection,  and  not  act  upon  it;  he  may  feel  benevo- 
lence or  friendship,  and  yet  act,  in  the  particular  case, 
with  cold  selfishness;  or  he  may  feel  the  impulse  of 
anger,  and  yet  conduct  himself  with  forbearance. 
When,  therefore,  we  go  another  step  backwards  in  the 
chain  of  moral  sequences,  our  attention  is  directed  to 
certain  ])rinciples  by  which  the  determination  is  actu- 
ally decided,  either  according  to  the  desire  or  affection 
which  is  present  to  the  mind,  or  in  opposition  to  it. 
This  brings  us  to  a  subject  of  the  utmost  practical  im- 
portance :  and  the  principles,  which  thus  decide  the 
determination  of  the  mind,  are  referable  to  two  heads. 
(1.)  The  determination  or  decision  may  arise  out  of 
a  certain  state  of  arrangement  of  the  moving  powers 
themselves,  in  consequence  of  which  some  one  of  them 
has  acquired  a  predominating  influence  in  the  moral 
system.  This  usually  results  from  habit,  or  frequent 
indulgence,  as  we  shall  see  in  a  subsequent  part  of  our 
inquiry,  A  man,  for  example,  may  desire  an  object, 
but  perceive  that  the  attainment  would  require  a  degree 
of  exertion  greater  than  he  is  disposed  to  devote  to  it. 
This  is  the  preponderating  love  of  ease,  a  branch  of 
self-love.  Another  may  perceive  that  the  gratification 
would  impair  his  good  name,  or  the  estimation  in 
wliich  he  is  anxious  to  stand  in  the  eyes  of  othei 
men.  This  is  tlie  predominating  love  of  approbation^ 
or  regard  to  cliaractcr.     In  the  same  manner,  a  thirc 


Exam}5lcs,  illustrative.  Powt.  <"  «lctcrmination.  First  ground  of  dete 
mination  mentioned  ?  Examples  gi\v.i.  Various  predominating  principle 
mentioned,  which  might  prevent  actioa. 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS.  63 

may  feel  that  it  would  interfere  ^ith  his  schemes  of 
avarice  or  ambition ;  and  so  In  regard  to  the  other 
desires.  On  a  similar  principle,  a  man  may  experience 
a  strong  impulse  of  anger,  but  perceive  that  there 
would  be  danger  in  gratifying  it,  or  that  he  would 
promote  his  reputation  or  his  interest  by  not  acting 
upon  it;  he  may  experience  a  benevolent  affection, 
but  feel  that  the  exercise  would  interfere  too  much  with 
his  personal  interest  or  comfort. 

(2.)  The  determination  may  arise  from  a  sense  of 
duty,  or  an  impression  of  moral  rectitude,  apart  from 
every  consideration  of  a  personal  nature.  This  is  the 
Moral  Principle^  or  Consciefice ;  in  every  mind  in  a 
state  of  moral  health,  it  is  the  supreme  and  regulating 
principle,  preserving  among  the  moving  powers  a  cer- 
tain harmony,  to  each  other,  and  to  the  principles  of 
moral  rectitude.  It  often  excites  to  conduct  which 
requires  a  sacrifice  of  self-love,  and  so  prevents  this 
principle  from  interfering  with  the  sound  exercise  of 
the  affections.  It  regulates  the  desires,  and  restrains 
them  by  the  simple  rule  of  purity ;  it  directs  and  regu- 
lates the  affections  in  the  same  manner  by  the  high 
sense  of  moral  responsibility;  and  it  thus  maintains 
order  and  harmony  in  the  whole  moral  system. 

One  of  the  chief  diversities  of  human  character,  in- 
deed, arises  from  the  circumstance  of  one  man  being 
habitually  influenced  by  the  simple  and  straight-for- 
ward principle  of  duty,  and  another  merely  by  a  kind 
of  contest  betvreen  desires  and  motives  of  a  very  infe- 

Second  srround  of  determinatii. n      Nature  of  Moral  Principle?     Its  pro 

rince  and  importaace  ?     Its  effect  upon  self-love  ?     Upon  the  desires  ' 

Uie  affections  ?     Cause  of  one  of  the  chief  diversities  of  human  characler  ? 

5# 


54  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS. 

rior  or  selfish  nature.*  Thus  also  we  acquire  a  know- 
ledge of  the  moral  temperament  of  different  me/i,  and 
learn  to  adapt  our  measures  accordingly  in  our  trans-  j 
actions  with  them.  In  endeavoring,  for  example,  to 
excite  three  individuals  to  some  act  of  usefulness,  we 
come  to  know,  that  in  one  we  have  only  to  appeal  to 
his  sense  of  duty ;  in  another  to  his  vanity  or  love  of 
approbation ;  while  we  have  no  hope  of  making  any 
impression  on  the  third,  unless  we  can  make  it  appear 
to  bear  upon  his  interest. 

V.  The  principles  referred  to  under  the  precedmg 
heads  are  chiefly  those  which  regulate  the  connection 
of  man  with  his  fellow-men.  But  there  is  another 
class  of  emotions,  in  their  nature  distinct  from  these ; 
though,  in  a  practical  point  of  view,  they  are  much 
connected.  These  are  the  emotions  which  arise  out 
of  his  relation  to  the  Deity.  The  regulation  of  the 
moral  feelings,  in  reference  to  this  relation,  will  there- 
fore come  to  be  considered  in  a  department  of  the  in- 
quiry devoted  to  themselves,  in  connection  with  the 
views  of  the  character  and  attributes  of  God,  which  we 
obtain  from  the  light  of  reason  and  conscience. 

This  analysis  of  the  principles  which  constitute  the 
moral  feelings  indicates  the  farther  division  of  our  in- 
quiry in  the  following  manner : — 

I.  The  Desires, — the  Affections, — and  Self-love. 

II.  The  Will. 

Modes  of  influencing  different  men  ?  To  what  connection  do  tne  preceding; 
principles  relate  ?  What  other  important  connection  does  man  snsiam ^ 
What  four  heads  of  inqjirj  result  from  this  analysis  ? 


ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELINGS.  55 

^    III.  The  Moral  Principle,  or  Conscience. 

IV.  The  moral  relation  of  man  towards  the  Deity. 

These  constitute  what  may  be  called  the  active 
principles  of  man,  or  those  which  are  calculated  to 
decide  his  conduct  as  a  moral  and  responsible  being. 
In  connection  with  them,  there  is  another  class  of  feel- 
ings, which  may  be  called  passive  or  connecting  emo- 
tions. They  exert  a  considerable  influence  of  a  secon- 
dary kind;  but,  in  an  essay  which  is  meant  to  be 
essentially  practical,  it  perhaps  will  not  be  necessary 
to  do  more  than  enumerate  them  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  point  out  their  "relation  to  the  active  principles. 

When  an  object  presents  qualities  on  account  ^f 
which  we  wish  to  obtain  it,  we  feel  desb^e.  If  we  have 
reason  to  think  that  it  is  within  our  reach,  Ave  experi- 
ence hope ;  and  the  effect  of  this  is  to  encourage  us  in 
our  exertions.  If  we  arrive  at  such  a  conviction  as 
leaves  no  doubt  of  the  attainment,  this  is  cotifidence^ 
one  of  the  forms  of  that  state  of  mind  which  we  call 
faith.  If  we  see  no  prospect  of  attaining  it,  we  givo 
way  to  despair;  and  this  leads  us  to  abandon  all 
exertion  for  the  attainment.  When  we  obtain  the  ob- 
ject, we  experience  pleasure  or  joy ;  if  we  are  disap- 
pointed, we  feel  regret.  If,  again,  we  have  the  pros- 
pect of  some  evil  which  threatens  us,  we  experience 
/ear,  and  are  thereby  excited  to  exertions  for  averting 
it.  If  we  succeed  in  doing  so,  we  experience  joy  ;  if 
not,  we  feel  sorrow.     If  the  evil  seem  unavoidable,  we 

What  may  these  principles  be  called?  What  other  class  of  feelings'? 
Nature  of  their  influence  ?  How  far  will  they  be  treated  in  this  work  ?  Name 
gome  of  these.  Under  what  circumstances  do  we  feel  desire  ?  Hope  ?  Con- 
fidence?    Despair?     Pleasure  or  joy  ?     Regret?     Fear?    Joy?    Sorrow? 


56  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  MORAL  FEELTNCS. 

again  giv7  way  to  despair^  and  are  thus  led  to  relm 
quish  all  attempts  to  avert  it. — Similar  emotions  at 
tend  on  the  affections.     When  we  experience  an  affec-  y 
tion,  we  desire  to  be  able  to  act  upon  it.     When  w©; 
see  a  prospect  of  doing  so,  we  hope ;  if  there  seem  toJ 
be    none,    we   despair   of    accomplishing   our   objects' 
When  we  have  acted  upon  a  benevolent  affection,  or? 
according  to  the  dictates  of  the  moral  principle,  wai 
experience   self-approbation ;   when  the  contrary,  we  ' 
feel  remorse.     When  either  a  desire  or  an  affection  has 
acquired  an  imdue  influence,  so  as  to  carry  us  forward  i 
in  a  manner  disproportioned  to  its  real  and  proper  ten- 
dencies, it  becomes  a  passion. 

Seli-approbat;on  ?     What  is  a  passion? 


PART   L 


OF   THE  DESIRES,   THE   AFFECTIONS,   AND 
SELF-LOVE. 


SEC.    I. 

THE   DESIRES. 


Desire  is  the  immediate  movement  or  act  of  the 
mind  towards  an  object  which  presents  some  quahty  on 
accomit  of  which  we  wish  to  obtain  it.  The  objects 
of  desire,  therefore,  embrace  all  those  attainments  and 
gratifications,  which  mankind  consider  worthy  of  be- 
ing songht  after.  The  object  pursued,  in  each  particu- 
lar case,  is  determined  by  the  views,  habits,  and  moral 
dispositions  of  the  individual.  In  this  manner,  one 
person  may  regard  an  object  as  above  every  other 
worthy  of  being  sought  after,  which  to  another  appears 
insignificant  or  worthless.  The  principles  which  regu- 
late these  diversities,  and  consequently  form  one  of  the 
great  difierences  in  human  character,  belong  to  a  sub- 
sequent part  of  our  inquiry. 

What  is  the  first  head  according  to  the  preceding'  plan  ?  What  is  desire  ** 
The  objects  of  desire,  what  ?  How  is  the  object  to  be  pursued  deteruuned '' 
DifT^rent  views  of  different  minds. 


5S  DESIRES.  [part  I. 

In  forming  a  classification  of  the  desires,  we  must  be 
guided  simply  by  the  nature  of  the  various  objects 
which  are  desired.  Those  which  may  be  specified  as 
the  most  prevalent,  and  the  most  clearly  to  be  distin- 
guished as  separate,  may  be  referred  to  the  following 
heads. 

I.  The  gratification  of  the  animal  propensities,  com- 
monly called  the  Appetites.  These,  which  we  possess 
in  common  with  the  lower  animals,  are  implanted  in 
us  for  important  purposes ;  but  they  require  to  be  kept 
under  the  most  rigid  control,  both  of  reason  and  of  the 
moral  principle.  When  they  are  allowed  to  break 
through  these  restraints,  and  become  leading  principles 
of  action,  they  form  a  character  the  lowest  in  the  scale, 
whether  intellectual  or  moral ;  and  it  is  impossible  to 
contemplate  a  more  degraded  condition  of  a  rational 
and  moral  being.  The  consequences  to  society  are 
also  of  the  most  baneful  nature.  Without  alluding  to 
the  glutton  or  to  the  drunkard,  Avhat  accumulated 
guilt,  degradation,  and  wretchedness  follow  the  course 
of  the  libertine, — blasting  whatever  comes  within  the 
reach  of  liis  influence,  and  extending  a  demoralizing 
power  alike  to  him  who  inflicts  and  to  those  who  suffer 
the  wrong.  Thus  is  constituted  a  class  of  evils,  of 
which  no  human  law  can  take  any  adequate  cogni- 
zance, and  which  therefore  raise  our  views,  in  a  special 
and  peculiar  manner,  to  a  supreme  Moral  Governor. 

By  what  arc  wc  to  be  guided  in  classilying  the  desires  7  First  class.  Are 
these  peculiar  to  njan  7  Necessity  of  control.  Consequences  <o  the  indiv- 
dual  of  not  restraining  ihem  7 — to  society  7  Examples.  Are  human  lavs 
ailcquate  to  restrain  the  appetites? 


SFC.  I.]  WEALTH POWER.  59 

II.  The  Desire  of  Wealth,  commonly  called  Avarice ; 
though  avarice  is  perhaps  justly  to  be  regarded  as 
the  morbid  excess  or  abuse  of  the  propensity.  This  is 
properly  to  be  considered  as  originating  in  the  desire  to 
possess  the  means  of  procurmg  other  gratifications. 
But,  by  the  influence  of  habit,  the  desire  is  trans- 
ferred to  the  thing  itself;  and  it  often  becomes  a  kind 
of  mania,  in  which  there  is  the  pure  love  of  gain,  with- 
out the  application  of  it  to  any  other  kind  of  enjoyment. 
It  is  a  propensity  which  may,  in  a  remarkable  maimer, 
engross  the  whole  character,  acquiring  strength  by 
continuance ;  and  it  is  then  generally  accompanied  by 
a  contracted  selfisliness,  which  considers  nothing  as 
mean  or  unworthy  that  can  be  made  to  contribute  to 
the  ruling  passion.  This  may  be.  the  case  even  when 
the  propensity  is  regulated  by  the  rules  of  justice ;  if 
it  break  thr^igh  this  restraint,  it  leads  to  fraud,  extor- 
tion, deceit,  and  injustice,  and,  under  another  form, 
to  theft  or  robbery.  It  is  therefore  always  in  danger 
of  being  opposed  to  the  exercise  of  the  benevolent  affec  • 
tions,  leading  a  man  to  live  for  himself,  and  to  study 
only  the  means  calculated  to  promote  his  own  interest. 

III.  The  Desire  of  Power,  or  Ambition.  This  is  the 
love  of  rulins:,  of  giving  law  to  a  circle,  whether  more 
or  less  extensive.  When  it  becomes  the  governing 
propensity,  the  strongest  principles  of  human  nature 
give  way  before  it,    even  those   of  personal  comfort 

Second  class  of  the  desires.  Common  name  ?  Strict  meaning  of  avarice? 
Origin  of  the  desire  for  wealth  ?  Its  nature  how  changed  by  habit  ?  Its 
effects  when  excessive  ?  Can  it,  in  such  cases,  be  restrained  by  the  princi- 
ples of  justice?  Its  effects  when  not  thus  restrained?  Third  desire.  Its 
elfects  when  exce  jsive. 


60  DESIRES.  [part  I. 

and  safety.  This  we  see  in  the  conqueror,  who  braves 
every  danger,  difficulty,  and  privation,  for  the  attain- 
ment of  power ;  and  in  the  statesman,  who  sacrifices 
for  it  every  personal  advantage,  perhaps  health  and 
peace.  The  principle,  however,  assumes  another  form, 
which,  according  to  its  direction,  may  aim  at  a  higher 
object.  Such  is  the  desire  of  exercising  power  over  the 
minds  of  men;  of  persuading  a  multitude,  by  argu- 
ments or  eloquence,  to  deeds  of  usefulness ;  of  pleading 
the  cause  of  the  oppressed ; — a  power  of  influencing  the 
opinions  of  others,  and  of  guiding  them  mto  sound  sen- 
timents and  virtuous  conduct.  This  is  a  species  of 
power,  the  most  gratifying  by  far  to  an  exalted  and 
virtuous  mind,  and  one  calculated  to  carry  benefit  to 
others  wherever  it  is  exerted. 

IV.  The  Desire  of  Superiority,  or  Emulation.  This 
is  allied  to  the  former,  except  that  it  does  not  include 
any  direct  wish  to  rule,  but  aims  simply  at  the  ac- 
quirement of  pre-eminence.  It  is  a  propensity  of  exten- 
sive influence,  and  not  easily  confined  within  the 
bounds  of  correct  principle.  It  is  apt  to  lead  to  undue 
means  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  object;  and  every 
real  or  imagined  failure  tends  to  excite  hatred  and 
envy.  Hence  it  requires  the  most  careful  regulation, 
and,  when  much  encouraged  in  the  young,  is  not  free 
fi'om  the  danger  of  generating  malignant  passions.  Its 
influence  and  tendency,  as  in  other  desires,  depend  in 
a  great  measiu-e  on  the  objects  to  which  it  is  directed. 

Examples.  Peculiar  form  whicli  it  snmotimes  takes.  Nature  and  ohjects 
of  intellectual  influence.  Fourth  desire.  How  related  to  the  preceding? 
Distinction  between  them  ?  Is  it  extensive  or  limited  in  its  influence  ?  Its 
dangerous  tendencies?     Upon  wh.nt  does  its  influence  depend? 


I 


SEC.  I.]  SUPERIORITY SOCIETY.  61 

It  may  be  seen  iii  the  man  who  seeks  to  excel  his  asso- 
ciates in  the  gayety  of  his  apparel,  in  the  splendor  of 
his  equipage,  or  the  luxury  of  his  table.  It  is  found  in 
him  whose  proud  distinction  is  to  be  the  most  fearless 
rider  at  a  steeple-chase  or  a  fox-hunt,  or  to  perform 
some  other  exploit,  the  only  claim  of  which  to  admira- 
tion consists  in  its  never  having  been  performed  before. 
IKe  same  principle,  directed  to  more  worthy  objects, 
may  influence  him  who  seeks  to  be  distinguished  in 
some  high  pursuit,  calculated  to  confer  a  lasting  benefit 
upon  his  country  or  on  human  kind. 

y.  The  Desire  of  Society.  This  has  been  considered 
by  most  writers  on  the  subject  as  a  prominent  principle 
of  human  nature,  showing  itself  at  all  periods  of  life, 
and  in  all  conditions  of  civilization.  In  persons  shut 
up  from  intercourse  with  their  fellow-men,  it  has  maid- 
fested  itself 'in  the  closest  attachment  to  animals ;  as  if 
the  human  mind  could  not  exist  without  some  object  on 
which  to  exercise  the  feelings  mtended  to  bind  man  to 
his  fellows.  It  is  found  in  the  union  of  men  in  civil 
society  and  social  intercourse,  in  the  ties  of  friend- 
ship, and  the  still  closer  union  of  the  domestic  circle. 
It  is  necessary  for  the  exercise  of  all  the  affections ; 
and  even  our  weaknesses  require  the  presence  of  othei 
men.  There  would  be  no  enjoyment  of  rank  or  wealth, 
if  there  were  none  to  admire;  and  even  the  misan- 
thrope requires  the  presence  of  another  to  whom  his 
spleen  may  be  uttered.  The  abuse  of  this  principle 
leads  to  the  contracted  spirit  of  party. 

Examples  of  it  ?  Fifth  desire  ?  How  does  this  desire  show  itself  ?  1  >oes 
il  over  have  for  its  objects  any  hut  human  heing^s?  What  are  some  oJ  ita 
re-jults?     Its  abuse  leads  to  what  ? 

G 


t>2  DESIRES.  [part  I. 

YI.  The  Desire  of  Esteem  and  Approbation.  This 
IS  a  principle  of  most  extensive  influence,  and  is  in 
many  instances  the  source  of  worthy  and  useful  dis- 
plays of  human  character.  Though  inferior  to  the 
high  sense  of  moral  obligation,  it  may  yet  be  considered 
a  laudable  principle  ;  as  when  a  man  seeks  the  appro- 
bation of  others  by  deeds  of  benevolence,  public  spirit, 
or  patriotism, — by  actions  calculated  to  promote  t!le 
advantage  or  the  comfort  either  of  commimities  or  indi- 
viduals. In  the  healthy  exercise  of  it,  a  man  desires 
the  approbation  of  the  good ;  in  the  distorted  use  of  it, 
he  seeks  merely  the  praise  of  a  party,  or  perhaps,  by 
deeds  of  a  frivolous  or  even  vicious  character,  aims  at 
the  applause  of  associates  whose  praise  is  worthless 
According  to.  the  object  to  which  it  is  directed,  there 
fore,  the  desire  of  approbation  may  be  the  attribute 
either  of  a  virtuous  or  a  perverted  mind.  But  it  is  a 
principle  which,  in  general,  we  expect  to  find  ope- 
rating, in  every  well-regulated  mind,  under  certain 
restrictions.  Thus  a  man  who  is  totally  regardless  of 
character,  that  is,  of  the  opinion  of  all  others  respecting 
his  conduct,  we  commonly  consider  as  a  person  lost  to 
correct  virtuous  feeling.  On  the  other  hand,  however, 
there  may  be  instances  in  which  it  is  the  quality  of  a 
man  of  the  greatest  mhid  to  pursue  some  course  to 
which,  from  adequate  motives,  he  has  devoted  himself, 
regardless  alike  of  the  praise  or  the  disapprobation  of 
other  men.  The  character  in  which  the  love  of  appro- 
Sixth  desire,  love  of  approlmtion.  Its  £j:cneral  chnractcr  and  effecls  ?  hs 
action  when  in  health}'  exercise '?  When  distorted  7  Is  it,  or  not.  very 
general  in  its  operation  ?  Character  of  the  man  who  is  totally  regardless  of 
the  opinions  of  others?  Case  in  which  the  disregard  of  the  opiiuuns  of 
others  is  prai.s  ^worthy  ? 


SEC.  I.]  ESTEEM  AND  APPROBATION.  63 

bation  is  a  ruling  principle  is  therefore  modified  by  the 
direction  of  it.  To  desire  the  approbation  of  the  vir- 
tuous, lea'ds  to  conduct  of  a  corresponding  kind,  and  tc 
steadiness  and  consistency  in  such  conduct. 

To  seek  the  approbation  of  the  vicious,  leads,  of 
course,  to  an  opposite  character.  But  there  is  a  third 
modification,  presenting  a  subject  of  some  interest,  in 
which  the  prevailing  principle  of  the  man  is  a  general 
love  of  approbation,  without  any  discrimination  of  the 
characters  of  those  whose  praise  is  sought,  or  of  the 
value  of  the  qualities  on  account  of  which  he  seeks  it. 
This  is  vanity ;  and  it  produces  a  conduct  wavering 
and  inconsistent,  perpetually  changing  with  the  cir- 
cumstances m  which  the  individual  is  placed.  It  often 
leads  him  to  aim  at  admiration  for  distinctions  of  a 
very  trivial  character,  or  even  for  qualities  which  he 
does  not  really  possess.  It  thus  includes  the  love  of 
flattery.  Pride,  on  the  other  hand,  as  opposed  to  vani- 
ty, seems  to  consist  in  a  man's  entertaining  a  high  opi- 
nion of  himself,  while  he  is  indifierent  to  the  opinion 
of  others  :  thus  we  speak  of  a  man  who  is  too  proud  to 
be  vain. 

Our  regard  to  the  opinion  of  others  is  the  origin  of 
our  respect  to  character,  in  matters  which  do  not  come 
under  the  higher  principle  of  morals ;  and  is  of  exten- 
sive influence  in  promoting  the  harmonies,  proprieties, 
and  decencies  of  society.  It  is  thus  the  foundation  of 
good  breeding,  and  leads  to  kindness  and  accommoda- 

Effects  of  desirinn;  the  approbation  of  the  virtuous  ?  of  the  vicious  ? 

Third  form  of  it  ?  Name  ?  Its  effects  ?  Nature  of  pride  ?  How  does  it 
differ  from  vanity  ?  Effects  of  this  principle  upon  the  social  habits  of  the 
community  ? 


64  DESIRES.  [part  L 

tion  in  little  matters  which  do  not  belong  to  the  class 
of  duties.  It  is  also  the  source  of  what  we  usually  call 
decorum  and  propriety,  which  lead  a  man  to  conduct 
himself  in  a  manner  becoming  his  character  and  cir- 
cumstances, in  regard  to  things  which  do  not  involve 
any  higher  principle.  For,  apart  entirely  from  any 
consideration  either  of  morality  or  benevolence,  there 
is  a  certain  line  of  conduct  which  is  unbecoming  in  all 
men ;  and  there  is  conduct  which  is  becoming  in  some, 
though  it  might  not  in  other  men,  and  in  some  circum- 
stances, though  it  might  not  be  so  in  others.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  add,  how  much  of  a  man's  respectability 
in  life  often  depends  upon  finding  his  way,  with  proper 
discrimination,  through  the  relations  of  society  which 
are  amenable  to  this  principle ;  or,  by  how  many  ac- 
tions which  are  not  really  wrong,  a  man  may  render 
himself  despised  and  ridiculous. 

The  love  of  esteem  and  approbation  is  also  of  exten- 
sive influence  in  the  ^'^oung,  both  in  the  conduct  of  edu- 
cation and  the  cultivation  of  gen^,ral  character ;  and  it 
is  not  liable  to  the  objections,  formerly  referred  to, 
which  apply  to  the  principle  of  Emulation.  It  leads 
also  to  those  numerous  expedients  by  which  persons  of 
various  character  seek  for  themselves  notoriety  or  a 
name;  or  desire  to  leave  a  reputation  behind  them, 
when  they  are  no  more.  This  is  the  love  of  posthu- 
mous fame,  a  subject  which  has  afforded  an  extensive 
theme  both  for  the  philosoplier  and  the  humorist. 

Its  re.alion  lo  docorum  '?  Nature  of  decorum  ?  EfToct  of  want  of  it  upon 
a  mail's  respectaliility  ?  Influence  of  lliis  desire  in  the  young?  Is  it  jnore 
or  less  dangerous  than  cmuhition  ?     Meaning  of  the  word  poslhtimous  > 


SEC.  I.]  KNOWLEDGE MORAL  IMPROVEMENT.  6.5 

YII.  The  Desire  of  Knowledge,  or  of  Intellectual 
Acquirement,  including  the  principle  of  Curiosity. 
The  tendency  of  this  high  principle  must  depend,  as  in 
the  former  cases,  on  its  regulation,  and  the  objects  to 
which  it  is  directed.  These  may  vary  from  the  idle 
tattle  of  the  day,  to  the  highest  attainments  in  literature 
or  science.  The  principle  may  be  applied  to  pursuits 
of  a  frivolous  or  useless  kind,  and  to  such  acquirements 
as  lead  only  to  pedantry  or  sophism;  or  it  mxay  be 
directed  to  a  desultory  application,  which  leads  to  a 
superficial  acquaintance  with  a  variety  of  subjects, 
without  a  correct  knowledge  of  any  of  them.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  may  be  allowed 
to  interfere  with  important  duties  which  we  owe  to 
others,  in  the  particular  situation  in  which  we  are 
placed.  A  well-regulated  judgment  conducts  the  pro- 
pensity to  worthy  objects;  and  directs  it  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  it  most  useful  to  others.  With 
such  due  regulations,  the  principle  ought  to  be  carefully 
cultivated  in  the  young.  It  is  closely  connected  with 
that  activity  of  mind  which  seeks  for  knowledge  on 
every  subject  that  comes  within  its  reach,  and  which 
is  ever  on  the  watch  to  make  its  knowledge  more  cor- 
rect and  more  extensive. 

YIII.  The  Desire  of  Moral  Improvement.  This 
leads  to  the  highest  state  of  man;  and  it  bears  this 
peculiar  character,  that  it  is  adapted  to  men  in  every 

Seventh  head  ?  What  principle  is  included  ?  Upon  what  does  its  tendency 
ilepend?  Name  some  of  t}\e  various  objects  it  may  have.  Under  wlint  cir- 
£umstances  may  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  be  carried  too  far?  How  ^honid 
It  be  regulated  ?  Its  effects  when  thus  regulated.  Eighth  head.  Its  nuure 
and  tendency. 


66  DESIRES.  [part  I.     j 

scale  of  society,  and  tends  to  diffuse  a  beneficial  influ-  t 
ence  around  the  circle  with  which  the  individual  is  \ 
connected.     The  desire  of  power  may  exist  in  many,  I 
but  its  gratification  is  limited  to  a  few :  he  who  fails  : 
may  become  a  discontented  misanthrope ;  and  we  wlio 
succeeds  may  be  a  scourge  to  his  species.     The  desire   : 
of  superiority  or  of  praise  may  be  misdirected  in  the   ; 
same  manner,  leading  to  insolent  triumph  on  the  one 
hand,   and  envy  on  the  other.     Even  the  thirst   for 
knowledge  may  be  abused,  and  many  are  placed  in 
circumstances  in  which  it  cannot  be  gratified.     But  the 
desire  of  moral  improvement  commends  itself  to  every 
class  of  society,  and  its  object  is  attainable  by  all.     In 
proportion  to  its  intensity  and  its  steadiness,  it  tends  to 
make  the  possessor  both  a  happier  and  a  better  man, 
and  to  render  him  the  instrument  of  diffiising  happiness  , 
and  usefulness  to  all  who  come  within  tlie  reach  of  his 
influence.     If  he  be  in  a  superior  station,  these  results 
will  be  felt  more  extensively:  if  he  be  in  a  humble 
sphere,  they  may  be  more  limited;  but  their  nature  is 
the  same,  and  their  tendency  is  equally  to  elevate  the 
character  of  man.     This  mental  condition  consists,  as 
we  shall  afterwards  have  occasion  to  show  more  parti- 
cularly, in  a  habitual  recognition  of  the  supreme  au- 
thority of  conscience  over  the  whole  intellectual  and 
moral  system,  and  in  a  habitual  effort  to  have  every 
desire  and  every  affection  regulated  by  the  moral  prin- 
ciple and  by  a  sense  of  the  divine  will.     It  leads  to  a 
uniformity  of  character  which  can  never  flow  from  any 

What  is  said  of  the  desire  of  power  compared  with  it  ?  the  desire  )f 

superiority?  of  knowledge  ?     ]\loral  improvement,  how  extensively  a*- 

tajnaltle?     Its  tendency.     In  what  does  elevated  moral  condition  consist  2 
Its  eflect  n])on  the  character  ? 


SEC.  I.]  ACTION.  67 

lower  source^  and  to  a  conduct  distinguished  by  the 
anxious  discharge  of  every  duty,  and  the  practice  ol 
the  most  active  benevolence. 

The  Emotions  which  have  been  now  briefly  men- 
tioned seem  to  inchide  the  more  important  of  those 
which  pertain  to  the  class  of  desires.  There  is,  how- 
ever, another  principle  which  ought  to  be  mentioned  as 
a  leading  peculiarity  of  human  nature,  though  it  may 
be  somewhat  difficult  to  determme  the  class  to  vv^hich 
it  belongs.  This  is  the  Desire  of  Action, — the  restless 
activity  of  mind,  \Vliich  leads  it  to  require  some  object 
on  which  its  powers  must  be  exercised,  and  without 
which  it  preys  upon  itself  and  becomes  miserable.  On 
this  principle  we  are  to  explain  several  facts  which  are 
of  frequent  observation.  A  person  accustomed  to  a 
life  of  activity  longs  for  ease  and  retirement,  and, 
when  he  has  accomplished  his  purpose,  finds  himself 
wretched.  The  frivolous  engagements  of  the  unoccu- 
pied are  referable  to  the  same  principle.  They  arise, 
not  from  any  interest  which  such  occupations  really 
possess,  but  simply  from  the  desire  of  mental  excite- 
ment, the  felicity  of  having  something  to  do.  The 
pleasure  of  relaxation,  indeed,  is  known  to  those  only 
who  have  regular  and  interesting  employment.  Con- 
tinued relaxation  soon  becomes  a  weariness ;  and,  on 
this  ground,  we  may  safely  assert,  that  the  greatest 
degree  of  real  enjoyment  belongs,  not  to  the  luxurious 
man  of  wealth,  or  the  listless  votary  of  fashion,  but  to 

One  more  desire,  not  classed  with  the  precediiig?  Facts  explained  by  it. 
From  what  do  the  frivolous  employments  of  those  unoccupied  with  serious 
business  arise  ?  Under  what  circumstances  alone  is  inaction  a  pleasure  I 
Effect  of  continued  relaxation  ?     What  classes  of  society  are  hapi)icst  7 


68  DESIRES.  [part  I. 

the  middle  classes  o^  society,  who,  along  with  the  com- 
forts of  life,  have  constant  and  important  occupation. 
Apart,  indeed,  from  actual  suffering,  I  believe  there  is 
nothing  in  the  external  circumstances  of  individuals, 
of  greater  or  more  habitual  importance  for  promoting 
personal  happiness,  than  stated,  rational,  and  interest-  j 
ing  employment. 

The  mental  condition  which  we  call  Desire,  appears 
to  lie  in  a  great  measure  at  the  foundation  of  character ; 
and,  for  a  sound  moral  condition,  it  is  required  that 
the  desires  be  directed  to  worthy  Objects,  and  that  the 
degree  or  strength  of  them  be  accommodated  to  the 
true  and  relative  value  of  each  of  these  objects.  If  the 
desires  are  thus  directed,  worthy  conduct  will  be  likely 
to  follow  in  a  steady  and  uniform  manner.  If  they  are 
allowed  to  break  from  the  restraints  of  reason  and  the 
moral  principle,  the  man  is  left  at  the  mercy  of  unhal- 
lowed passion,  and  is  liable  to  those  irregularities  which 
naturally  result  from  such  a  derangement  of  the  moral 
feelings.  If,  indeed,  Ave  would  see  the  evils  produced 
by  desire,  when  not  thus  controlled,  we  have  only  to 
look  at  the  whole  history  of  human  kind.  AYhat  accu- 
mulated miseries  arise  from  the  want  of  due  regulation 
of  the  animal  propensities,  in  the  various  forms  in 
which  it  degrades  the  character  of  rational  and  moral 
beings.  What  evils  spring  from  the  love  of  money, 
and  from  the  desire  of  power ;  from  the  contests  of  ri- 
vals, and  the  tumults  of  party,  what  envy,  hatred,  ma- 

Relalion  of  the  desires  to  tlie  character?  What  state  of  the  desires  is  ne- 
cessary to  a  sound  moral  condition?  Consequences  resultinj^  frnin  uiire 
■trained  desires?  Wliat  are  some  of  the  dt-sires  named  hy  the  author, 
whose  unrestrained  action  have  made  most  misery  in  the  world  .' 


SEC.  I.J  RE->ULATION  OF  THE  DESIRES.  69 

lignity  and  revenge.  What  complicated  wretchedness 
follows  the  train  of  ambition, — contempt  of  humtn 
suffering,  countries  depopulated,  and  fields  dehiged 
with  blood.  Such  are  the  results  of  desire,  when  not 
directed  to  objects  worthy  of  a  moral  being,  and  not 
kept  under  the  rigid  control  of  conscience,  and  the  im- 
mutable laws  of  moral  rectitude.  When,  in  any  of 
these  forms,  a  sensual  or  selfish  propensity  is  allowed  to 
pass  the  due  boundary  which  is  fixed  for  it  by  reason 
and  the  moral  principle,  the  mental  harmony  is  de- 
stroyed, and  even  the  judgment  itself  comes  to  be  im- 
paired and  distorted  in  that  highest  of  all  inquiries,  the 
search  after  moral  truth. 

The  desires,  indeed,  may  exist  in  an  ill-regulated 
state,  while  the  conduct  is  yet  restrained  by  various 
principles,  such  as  submissiDn  to  human  laws,  a  regard 
to  character,  or  even  a  certain  feeling  of  what  is  mo- 
rally right,  contending  with  the  vitiated  principle  with- 
in. But  this  cannot  be  considered  as  the  healthy 
condition  of  a  moral  being.  It  is  only  when  the  desire 
itself  is  sound,  that  we  can  say  the  man  is  in  moral 
health.  "  He  who  grieves  at  his  abstinence,"  says 
Aristotle,  "is  a  voluptuary ;"  and  this  also  is  the  great 
principle  so  often  and  so  strikingly  enforced  in  the 
sacred  writings,  ''Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence, 
because  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life."  ''  Blessed  are 
the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God."  Thus, 
there  are  desires  which  are  folly,  and  there  are  desires 
which  are  vice,  even  though  they  should  not  be  foi- 
ls ihe  conduct  necessarily  bad  when  the  desires  are  ill-regulated  ?  Ho\« 
may  it  be  restrained  ?  Is  this  a  healthy  moral  condition  ?  Requirement  of 
.bt  word  of  God  in  respect  to  the  desires. 


70  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  L  ,  p 

lowed  by  indulgence ;  and  there  are  desires  which  tend 
to  purify  and  elevate  the  moral  nature,  though  their 
objects  should  be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  full  attain- 
ment in   the   present   state  of  being.     Perfect   moral 
purity  is  not  the  lot  of  man  in  this  transient  state,  and 
is  not  to  be  attained  by  his  own  unaided  efforts.     But, 
subservient  to  it  is  that  warfare  within,  that  earnest  ■, 
and  habitual  desire  after  the  perfection  of  a  moral  be-   ' 
ing,  which  is  felt  to  be  the  great  object  of  life,  when  it 
is  viewed  in  relation  to  the  life  which  is  to  come.     For  i 
this   attainment,   however,   man   must   feel   his   total   a 
inadequacy ;  and  the  utmost  efforts  of  human  reason  ^ 
have  failed  in  unfolding  the  requisite  aid.     The  con-   ^ 
viction  is  thus  forced  upon  us,  that  a  higher  influence 
is  necessary ;  and  this  influence  is  fully  disclosed  by 
the  light  of  revealed  truth.     We  are  there  taught  to   s 
look  for  a  power  from  on  high,   capable  of  effecting   - 
what  human  efforts  cannot  accomplish — the  purifica- 
tion of  the  heart. 


SEC.     II. 

,       U  THE   AFFECTIONS. 

As  the  Desires  are  calculated  to  bring  some  gratfii 
cation  to  ourselves,  the  Affections  lead  us  to  our  rela- 


The  great  oliject  of  life?     Are  our  own  unaided  powers  adequate  to  tf-* 
work  ?     To  what  sourer  must  we  look  f(ir  aid  .' 


SEC.  II. J  AFFECTIONS.  71 

tions  to  other  men,  and  to  a  certain  line  of  conduct 
which  arises  out  of  these  relations. 

Thus  love  of  money,  or  of  power,  or  the  desire  of  know- 
ledge, and  all  the  other  desires  enumerated  in  the  preceding 
section,  have  for  their  object  the  procuring  of  some  gratifica 
tion  for  ourselves ;  it  is  the  pleasure  of  the  possession  of  the 
money,  or  the  power,  or  the  knowledge,  which  the  mind  rests 
upon.  But  the  feelings  of  justice,  benevolence,  parental  affec- 
tion, and  the  others  brought  to  view  in  this  section,  are  of  a 
different  nature.  They  are  not  desires  seeking  gratifications 
for  ourselves,  but  feelings  of  duty  to  be  performed  towards 
others.  Thus  emulation  belongs  to  the  former  class.  It 
seeks  a  gratification  for  itself  Patriotism  and  regard  for 
truth  appertain  to  the  latter.  They  arise  out  of  our  relations 
to  others,  and  urge  us  to  certain  duties  towards  them.  These 
affections,  or  instinctive  principles  of  duty  towards  others,  are 
»ow  in  this  section  to  be  considered,  being  the  second  part  of 
the  first  great  division  in  the  author's  plan. 

They  are  to  be  viewed  as  original  principles  of  our 
nature,  planted  in  us  for  wise  purposes,  and  the  opera- 
tion of  them  is  to  be  considered  as  distinct  both  from 
that  of  the  moral  principle  and  of  reason ;  that  is,  from 
any  sense  of  duty  or  the  moral  rectitude  of  the  conduct 
to  which  they  lead,  and  from  any  calculation  of  its 
propriety  and  utility.  Thus,  when  the  mother  devotes 
her  attention  by  day  and  night  to  her  infant,  if  from 
sickness  or  helplessness  in  want  of  her  special  care, 

What  is  the  precise  distinctioiv  between  the  desires  and  the  affections  7 

Name  some  examples  of  desires  ;  of  affections.     Is  emulation  one  of  the 

desires,  or  ot  the  affections  ?  Patriotism  ?  Avarice  ?  Justice  ?  Distinction 
between  desires  and  affections  7  How  to  be  regarded  ?  From  what  two 
principles  are  they  to  be  particularly  distinguished  ?     Example  given  ? 


72  AFFECTIONS.  IPARTI.  , 

r 
and  perseveres  in  doing  so,  with  total  disregard  of  her 
own   ease,   health,   or   comfort,    she  is  not  influenced: 
either  by  a  sense  of  duty,  or  by  any  feeUng  of  the  uti-  ! 
hty  of  her  conduct :  she  acts  upon  an  impulse  within,  ; 
wliich  she  feels  to  be  a  part  of  her  constitution,  and  ;^ 
which  carries   her  forward  in  a  particular  course  of 
anxious  and  protracted  exertion  by  the  power  of  itself 
alone.     This  distinction  appears  to  be  of  the  utmost 
practical  importance,  and  we  shall  have  occasion  to  -j 
refer  to  it  more  particularly  m  the  sequel. 

An  Affection,  therefore,   may  be  considered  as  aniy 
original  feeling  or  emotion  existing  in  ourselves,  which  u^ 
leads  us  to  a  particular  conduct  towards  other  men,  ,; 
without  reference  to  any  principle  except  the  intuitive  = 
impulse  of  the  emotion  itself.     The  Affections  have 
been  divided  into  the  Benevolent  and  the  Malevolent ; 
but  these  titles  appear  to  be  incorrect,  especially  the  >, 
latter,  as  the  due  exercise  of  the  emotions  to  which  it 
refers  does  not  properly  include  what  is  called  malevo- 
lence.    They  only  tend  to  guard  us  against  certain 
conduct  in  other  men ;  and,  when  they  are  allowed  to 
go  beyond  this,  that  is,  to  actual  malevolence  or  re- 
venge,  the   application   is   morbid.     It  will   therefore 
accord  better  with  the  nature  of  these  emotions,  to  give 
them  the  names  of  Uniting,  and  Defensive  Affections;  j, 
the   former   including  justice,    benevolence,    veracity, 
friendship,  love,  gratitude,  patriotism,  and  the  domestic;; 
affections ;    the   latter,   jealousy,    disapprobation,    and  I, 
anger.  \ 

What  is  this  example  intended  to  sliow?     How  have  the  affections  been: 
divided  ?     Odjection  to  this  divii^ion.     The  author's  division.     What  are  in 
eluded  under  the  head  of  Uniting  aflectious  ?    Under  Defensive  affections  7 


SfiC.  II.]  JUSTICE.  73 


I. JUSTICE. 

There  may  be  some  difference  of  opinion  in  regard  to 
the  propriety  of  including  Justice  among  the  affections ; 
but  it  seems  to  be  more  nearly  allied  to  them  than  to 
any  of  the  other  classes  of  moral  emotions  which  have 
been  mentioned,  and  it  may,  therefore,  as  a  mere  mat- 
ter of  arrangement,  be  conveniently  introduced  here. 
Strictly  speaking,  it  might  perhaps  be  considered  as  a 
combined  operation  of  an  affection  and  the  moral  prin- 
ciple; but  this  is  matter  of  speculation  alone.  The 
important  consideration  relating  to  it  is,  that,  in  what- 
ever manner  it  arises,  the  sense  of  Justice  is  a  primary 
•md  essential  part  of  our  moral  constitution,  conveying 
the  distinct  impression  of  certain  conduct  which  a  man 
owes  to  his  fellow-men,  without  regard  to  any  consi- 
derations of  a  personal  nature,  and  apart  from  all  posi- 
tive enactments  or  laws,  either  divine  or  human.  The 
requirements  of  Justice  embrace  certain  points  in  which 
every  man  has  an  absolute  right,  and  in  regard  to 
which  it  is  the  absolute  duty  of  every  other  man  not  to 
interfere  with  him.  These  rights  have  usually  been 
divided  into  three  classes ; — what  I  have  a  right  to  pos- 
sess, and  no  man  has  any  right  to  take  from  me, — what 
I  have  a  right  to  do,  and  no  man  has  any  title  to  pre- 
vent me  from  doing, — what  I  have  a  right  to  expect 
from  other  men,  and  it  is  their  absolute  duty  to  perform. 
These  principles  form  the  basis  of  what  is  called  Na- 

Question  in  respect  to  Justice  ?  How  might  it,  strictly  speaking,  be  consi- 
aered?  Nature  of  the  sense  of  Justice  ?  Its  influenc;?  Into  how  manv 
classes  are  the  claims  of  justice  to  be  divided  ? 

7 


74  AFFECTIONS.  [PART    11 

taral  Jurisprudence,  a  code  of  relative  duty  deriving  it^ 
authority  from  impressions  which  are  found  in  thi 
moral  feelings  of  all  mankind,  without  regard  to  thll 
enactments  of  any  particular  civil  society.  In  thil 
actual  arrangements  of  civil  communities,  these  greaa 
principles  of  jus^ce  are  combined  with  others  whicl 
are  derived  meiely  from  utility  or  expediency,  as  cal^' 
culated  to  promote  the  peace  or  the  advantage  of  thtp 
community.  These  may  differ  in  different  countries'; 
and  they  ce  ise  to  be  binding  when  the  enactments  oi 
which  the/  rest  are  abrogated  or  changed.  But  nc. 
difference  of  place  can  alter,  and  no  laws  can  destroy  r 
the  esseiitial  requirements  of  justice. 

In  tl  ese  observations,  it  will  be  remarked,  the  wore 
Justice  is  used  as  expressing  a  principle  of  individua/i 
character;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  that  it  is  to  be  pro-i 
perly  classed  with  the  affections.     The  term  is  em- 
ployed in  another  sense,  namely,  that  of  distributive 
and    corrective    justice,    which   regulates   the   claims 
of  individuals   in   a   commimity,  requires   restitution* 
or  compensation  for  any  deviation  from  such  claims,'i 
or  punishes  those  who  have  violated  them.     It  is  in- 
the  former  sense  that  justice  is  properly  to  be  con-: 
sidered  as  a  branch  of  the  philosophy  of  the  moral | 
feelings;    but   the   same   general   principles   apply  tod 
both.  / 

The  sense  of  Justice,  therefore,  consists  in  a  feeling j 

experienced  by  every  man,  of  a  certain  line  of  conducti 

,.-1 

Name  tjivcn  to  the  system  arising  from  these  principles?     With  what' 
combined  in  the  actual  arrangements  of  society?     Diflerence  between  thet 
essential  principles  of  justice,  and  mere  human  enactments,  in  respect  to 
their  permanency.     Two  senses   in  which   the  term  Justice  is   used.     In  5 
which  employed  here?     The  sense  of  Justice  consists  in  what? 


1  SEC.  II.J  JUSTICE.  75 

i  which  he  owes  to  other  men,  in  given  circumstances ; 
if  and    this    seems    to    be    referable    to    the    following 
\  heads :  attending  to  their  interest ;  not  interfering  with 
j  their  freedom  of  action ;  preserving  their  reputation ; 
li estimating  their  character   and  motives;   judging  of 
t  their  opinions ;  consulting  their  feelings ;  and  preserv- 
■  ing  or  improving  their  moral  condition.     As  a  guide 
for  his  conduct  in  particular  instances,  a  man  has  usu- 
ally a  distinct  impression  of  what  he  thinks  due  by 
other  men  towards  himself;  justice  requires  that  he 
rigidly  extend  to  others  the  same  feelings  and  conduct 
which,  in  similar  circumstances,  he  expects  from  them. 

(1.)  Justice  is  due  to  the  persons,  property,  and 
interest  of  others.  This  constitutes  integrity  or  ho- 
nesty. It,  of  course,  implies  abstaining  from  every 
kind  of  injury,  and  preserving  a  conscientious  regard 
to  their  rights.  In  this  last  respect,  it  allows  us  to 
exercise  a  prudent  attention  to  our  own  interest,  pro- 
vided the  means  be  fair  and  honorable,  and  that  we 
carefully  abstain  from  injuring  others  by  the  measures 
we  employ  for  this  purpose.  The  great  rule  for  our 
guidance,  m  all  such  cases,  is  found  in  the  immutable 
principles  of  moral  rectitude ;  the  test  of  our  conduct 
m  regard  to  individual  instances  is,  that  it  be  such  as, 
weie  our  o"\vn  interest  concerned,  we  should  think  fair 
and  honorable  in  other  men. 

(2.)  Justice  requires  us  not  to  interfere  with  the 
freedom  of  action  of  others.     This  constitutes  personal 

To  what  heads  referable.     The  golden  rule.     First  requirement  of  justice  7 
Name?     Duties  arising  from  it.     Second  requirement. 


76  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I. 

liberty :  but  in  all  civil  communities  the  right  is  liable 
to  certain  restrictions ;  as  when  a  man  uses  his  freedom 
of  action  to  the  danger  or  injury  of  other  men.  The 
principles  of  justice  may  also  recognise  a  man's  surren- 
dering, to  a  certain  extent,  his  personal  liberty,  by 
mutual  and  voluntary  compact,  as  in  the  case  of  ser- 
vants, apprentices,  soldiers,  &c. ;  but  they  are  opposed 
to  slavery,  in  which  the  individual  concerned  is  not  a 
party  to  the  arrangement. 

(3.)  Justice  enjoins  a  regard  to  the  reputation  of 
others.  This  consists  in  avoiding  every  thing  that 
could  be  injurious  to  their  good  name,  either  by  direct 
evil  speaking,  or  such  insinuations  as  might  give  rise 
to  suspicion  or  prejudice  against  them.  It  must  extend 
also  to  the  counteracting  of  such  insinuations,  when 
we  hear  them  made  by  others,  especially  in  circum- 
stances in  which  the  individual  injured  has  no  oppor- 
tunity of  defending  himself  It  includes,  farther,  that 
we  do  not  deny  to  others,  even  to  rivals,  any  praise  or 
credit  which  is  justly  due  to  them.  There  is,  however, 
one  modification,  equally  consistent  with  justice,  to 
which  the  former  of  these  rules  is  liable ;  namely,  that, 
m  certain  cases,  we  may  be  required  to  make  a  state- 
ment prejudicial  to  an  individual,  when  duty  to  a  third 
party  or  to  the  public  makes  it  incumbent  on  us  to  do 
so.  In  such  a  case,  a  person  guided  by  the  rules  of 
justice  will  go  no  farther  than  is  actually  required  by 
the  circumstances;  and   will  at  all  times  beware  of 

Exceptions.  Can  a  man  justly  surrender  his  own  liberty?  Slavery 
Requirements  of  justice  in  respect  to  the  reputation  of  others.  What  do 
they  include  ?  In  what  cases  is  censure  of  others  allowable  ?  Cautiwn  ui 
refereuM  to  this. 


SEC.  II.]  JUSTICE.  77 

propagating  a  report  injurious  to  another,  though  he 
should  know  it  to  be  strictly  true,  unless  he  is  called 
upon  by  special  duty  to  communicate  it. 

(4.)  Justice  requires  us  not  only  to  avoid  injuring 
an  individual  in  the  estimation  of  other  men,  but  to 
exercise  the  same  fairness  in  forming  our  own  opinion 
of  his  character,  without  being  misled  or  biassed  by 
passion  or  prejudice.  This  consists  in  estimating  his 
conduct  and  motives  with  calmness  and  impartiality ; 
in  regard  to  particular  instances,  making  full  allowance 
for  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  and  the 
feelings  by  which  he  was,  or  might  be,  at  the  time, 
naturally  influenced.  When  an  action  admits  of  being 
referred  to  different  motives,  justice  consists  in  taking 
the  more  favorable  view,  if  we  can  do  so  with  strict 
regard  to  truth,  instead  of  harshly  and  hastily  assign- 
ing a  motive  which  is  unworthy.  Such  justice  in  re- 
gard to  character  and  motives  we  require  to  exercise 
with  peculiar  care,  when  the  conduct  referred  to  has 
been  in  any  way  opposed  to  our  owti  self-love.  In 
these  cases  we  must  be  especially  on  our  guard  against 
the  influence  of  the  selfish  principle,  which  might  lead 
to  partial  and  distorted  views  of  actions  and  motives, 
less  favorable  to  others,  and  more  favorable  to  our- 
selves, than  justice  warrants.  When  viewed  in  this 
manner,  we  may  often  perceive,  that  conduct,  which 
gave  rise  to  emotions  of  displeasure  as  injurious  to  us, 
was   fully  warranted    by  some  conduct   on  our  own 

Is  it  always  right  to  propagate  injurious  reports  that  are  true?     Claims 
of  justice  in  respect  to  our  own  opinions  of  others.    How  should  these 
Bpinions  be  formed  ?     Actions  referable  to  difFerent  motives  ? 
;  7* 


78  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I. 

part,  or  was  required  by  some  higher  duty  which  the 
individual  owed  to  another. 

(5.)  Justice  is  to  be  exercised  in  judging  of  t?ie 
opinions  and  statements  of  others.  This  constitutes 
candor.  It  consists  in  giving  a  fair  and  deliberate 
hearing  to  their  opinions,  statements,  and  arguments, 
and  weighing  fairly  and  honestly  their  tendency.  It 
is,  therefore,  opposed  to  prejudice,  blind  attachment  to 
preconceived  opinions,  and  that  narrow,  disputatious 
spirit  which  delights  in  captious  criticism,  and  will 
hear  nothing  with  calmness  that  is  opposed  to  its  own 
views ;  which  distorts  or  misrepresents  the  sentiments 
of  its  opponents,  ascribing  them  to  unworthy  motives, 
or  deducing  from  them  conclusions  which  they  do  not 
warrant.  Candor,  accordingly,  may  be  considered  as 
a  compound  of  justice  and  the  love  of  truth.  It  leads 
us  to  give  due  attention  to  the  opinions  and  statements 
of  others,  in  all  cases  to  be  chiefly  solicitous  to  dis- 
cover truth,  and,  in  statements  of  a  mixed  character, 
containing  perhaps  much  error  and  fallacy,  anxiously 
to  discover  and  separate  what  is  true.  It  has  accord- 
ingly been  remarked,  that  a  turn  for  acute  disputation, 
and  minute  and  rigid  criticism,  is  often  the  character- 
istic of  a  contracted  and  prejudiced  mind ;  and  that 
the  most  enlarged  understandings  are  always  the  most 
indulgent  to  the  statements  of  others, — their  leading 
object  being  to  discover  truth. 

Cases  in  which  we  are  in  peculiar  danger  of  misjudging.  Candor,  what  ? 
To  what  is  it  opposed  ?  Nature  of  projiuHce  ?  From  what  two  elements 
does  candor  result ?  Its  influence?  What  does  a  turn  for  disputation  and 
minute  criticism  indicate  ?  Eflect  of  an  enlarged  and  liberal  mind  iu  resptct 
to  tiie  statements  and  opinions  of  others  ? 


SEC.  n.]  JUSTICE.  79 

(6.)  Justice  is  due  to  the  feelings  of  others;  and 
this  applies  to  many  circumstances  which  do  not  affect 
either  their  interest  or  their  reputation.  Wivhout  in- 
juring them  in  any  of  these  respects,  or  in  our  own 
good  opinion,  we  may  behave  to  them  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  wound  tlieir  feelings.  There  are  minds  of  an 
extreme  delicacy,  which,  in  this  respect,  are  peculiarly 
sensitive;  towards  these  a  person  of  correct  feelings 
strives  to  conduct  himself  with  suitable  tenderness. 
We  may  find,  however,  persons  of  honest  and  upright 
minds,  who  would  shrink  from  the  least  approach  to 
real  injury,  but  yet  neglect  the  necessary  attention  to 
the  feelings ;  and  may  even  confer  a  real  benefit  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  wound  the  individual  to  whom 
they  intended  kindness.  The  lower  degrees  of  this 
principle  pertain  to  what  is  called  mere  good  breeding, 
which  has  been  defined  ''  benevolence  in  trifles  ;"  but 
the  higher  degrees  may  restrain  from  conduct  which, 
without  any  real  injury,  inflicts  permanent  pain.  To 
this  head  we  may  perhaps  also  refer  a  due  regard  to 
the  estimate  which  we  lead  a  man  to  form  of  himself. 
This  is  opposed  to  flattery  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  to  any  unnecessary  depreciation  of  his  cha- 
racter. Flattery  indeed  is  also  to  be  considered  as  a 
violation  of  veracity. 

(7.)  While,  upon  the  principles  which  have  been 
referred  to,  we  abstain  from  injuring  the  interests,  the 

Sixth  claim  of  justice  ?  Can  the  feelings  be  injured  without  wounding 
the  interest  or  the  reputation  ?  Duties  towards  persons  peculiarly  sensitive  ? 
Are  these  duties  often  or  seldom  neglected  ?  Good  breeding ;  how  has  u 
^en  sometimes  defined  ? 


80  AFFECTIONS.  [/»ART  I. 

reputation,  or  the  feelings  of  others,  there  is  another 
class  of  injuries,  of  still  higher  magnitude,  which  the 
conscientious  mind  will  avoid  with  peculiar  anxiety, 
namely,  injuries  done  to  the  moral  principles  of  other 
men.  These  form  a  class  of  offences  of  which  no  hu- 
man law  takes  any  adequate  cognizance ;  but  we 
know  that  they  possess  a  character  of  the  deepest 
malignity.  Deep  guilt  attaches  to  the  man  who,  by 
persuasion  or  ridicule,  has  unhinged  the  moral  feelings 
of  another,  or  has  been  the  means  of  leading  him 
astray  from  the  paths  of  virtue.  Of  equal,  or  even 
greater  malignity,  is  the  aspect  of  the  writer,  whose  ^ 
works  have  contributed  to  violate  the  principles  oJ 
truth  and  rectitude,  to  pollute  the  imagination,  o! 
corrupt  the  heart.  Inferior  offenders  are  promptly 
seized  by  public  authority,  and  suffer  the  award  of 
public  justice ;  but  the  destroyer  of  the  moral  bein-, 
often  walks  securely  through  his  own  scene  of  moral 
discipline,  as  if  no  power  could  reach  the  measure  of 
his  guilt  but  the  hand  of  the  Eternal. 

To  the  same  head  we  are  to  assign  the  extensive 
and  important  influence  of  example.  There  are  fcAV 
men  who  have  not  in  this  respect  some  power,  but  it 
belongs  more  particularly  to  persons  in  situations  of 
rank  and  public  eminence.  It  is  matter  of  deep  regret, 
both  to  the  friend  of  virtue  and  the  friend  of  his  coun- 
try, when  any  of  these  are  found  manifesting  disregard 
to  sacred  things,  or  giving  an  air  of  fashion  to  what  is 
calculated  to  corrupt  the  moral  principles  of  the  un- 


Higher  class  of  injuries  spoken  of  under  iho  seventh  head.  Their  cha- 
racter? Does  the  law  take  cognizance  of  them  ?  Different  modes  by  which 
aijury  to  the  morals  of  others  is  done.     Example. 


SEC.  II.]  COMPASSION    AND   BENEVOLENCE.  81 

thinking  classes  of  society.  If  they  are  restrained  by 
no  higher  motive,  the  feehngs  of  patriotism,  and  even 
of  personal  safety,  ought  to  produce  a  solemn  caution ; 
and  it  becomes  them  seriously  to  consider,  whether 
they  may  not  thus  be  sowing  among  the  ignorant  mul- 
titude the  seeds. of  tumult,  revolution,  and  anarchy. 


n. COMPASSION    AND    BENEVOLENCE. 

Great  diversity  exists  in  the  condition  of  different 
individuals  in  the  present  state,  some  being  in  cir- 
cumstances of  ease,  wealth,  and  comfort,  others  of 
pain,  deprivation,  and  sorrow.  Such  diversities  we 
must  consider  as  an  arrangement  established  by  the 
great  disposer  of  all  things,  and  calculated  to  promote 
important  purposes  in  his  moral  government.  Many 
of  these  purposes  are  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  our 
faculties;  but,  as  holding  a  prominent  place  among 
them,  we  may  safely  reckon  the  cultivation  of  our 
moral  feelings,  especially  the  affections  of  compassion 
and  benevolence.  The  due  exercise  of  these  is,  there- 
fore, calculated  to  promote  a  double  object,  namely, 
the  alleviation  of  distress  in  others,  and  the  cultiva- 
tion in  ourselves  of  a  mental  condition  peculiarly 
adapted  to  a  state  of  moral  discipline.  By  bringing 
us  into  contact  with  individuals  in  various  forms  and 
degrees  of  suffering,  they  tend  continually  to  remind 
us,  that  the  present  scene  is  but  the  infancy  of  our 
— t ' ' 

Effects  of  bad  example  ?  Second  class  of  affections  ?  Diversity  in  the 
condition  of  men.  Cause  and  design  of  this  diversity  ?  Importai:  ce  of  cul 
tivalmg  the  benevolent  feelings.     Double  object  in  this 


82  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I 

existence, — that  the  beings  Avhom  we  thns  contemplate 
are  the  children  of  the  same  Almighty  Father  with 
ourselves,  inheriting  the  same  nature,  possessed  of  the 
same  feelings,  and  soon  to  enter  upon  another  state  of 
existence,  when  all  the  distinctions  which  are  to  be 
found  in  this  world  shall  cease  forever.  They  tend 
thus  to  withdraw  us  from  the  power  of  self-love,  and 
the  deluding  influence  of  present  things  ;  and  habitu- 
ally to  raise  our  views  to  that  future  life,  for  which 
the  present  is  intended  to  prepare  us.  The  due  culti- 
vation of  the  benevolent  aflections,  therefore,  is  not 
properly  to  be  considered  as  a  source  of  moral  appro- 
bation, but  rather  as  a  process  of  moral  culture.  They 
may  enable  us  in  some  degree  to  benefit  others,  but 
their  chief  benefit  is  to  ourselves.  By  neglecting  them, 
we  both  incur  much  guilt,  and  deprive  ourselves  of  an 
important  means  of  improvement.  The  diligent  exer- 
cise of  them,  besides  being  a  source  of  moral  advan- 
tage, is  accompanied  with  a  degree  of  mental  enjoy- 
ment which  carries  with  it  its  own  reward.  Such 
appears  to  be  the  correct  view  which  we  ought  to  take 
of  the  arrangement  established  by  the  Creator  in  this 
part  of  our  constitution.  It  is  calculated  to  correct  a 
misconception  of  an  important  kind,  which  considers 
the  exercise  of  the  benevolent  affections  as  possessing 
a  character  of  merit.  To  this  subject  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  refer  more  particularly  in  the  sequel. 

The  exercise  of  the  benevolent   affections  may  be 
briefly  treated  of,  under  nearl}^  the  same  heads  as  those 

Truths  of  which  the  exercise  of  them  reminds  us?  Tendency  of  benevc#onr 
efforts  upon  our  own  characters  ?  How  is  the  cultivation  of  the  benevolent 
affections  to  he  considered ?  Comparative  benefit  to  ourselves  and  others'? 
The  reward  ?     Important  misconception. 


SEC.  II.]  COMPASSION   AND    BENEVOLENCE.  83 

referred  to  when  considering  the  principle  of  justice ; 
keeping  in  mind  that  they  lead  to  greater  exertion  for 
the  benefit  of  others,  and  thus  often  demand  a  greater 
sacrifice  of  self-love,  than  is  included  under  the  mere 
requirements  of  justice.  On  the  other  hand,  benevo- 
lence is  not  to  be  exercised  at  the  expense  of  justice ; 
as  would  be  the  case,  if  a  man  were  found  relieving 
distress  by  such  expedients  as  involve  tiie  necessity  of 
withholding  the  payment  of  just  debts,  or  imply  the 
neglect  or  infringement  of  some  duty  which  he  owes 
to  another. 

(1.)  Compassion  and  benevolent  exertion  are  due 
towards  alleviating  the  distresses  of  others.  This  ex- 
ercise of  them,  in  many  instances,  calls  for  a  decided 
sacrifice  of  personal  interest,  and,  in  others,  for  consi- 
derable personal  exertion.  We  feel  our  way  to  the 
proper  measure  of  these  sacrifices,  by  the  high  principle 
of  moral  duty,  along  with  that  mental  exercise  which 
places  us  in  the  situation  of  others,  and,  by  a  kind  of 
reflected  self-love,  judges  of  the  conduct  due  by  us  to 
them  in  our  respective  circumstances. — The  details  of 
this  subject  would  lead  us  into  a  field  too  extensive  for 
our  present  purpose.  Pecuniary  aid,  by  those  who 
have  the  means,  is  the  most  easy  form  in  which  bene- 
volence can  be  gratified,  and  that  which  often  requires 
the  least,  if  any,  sacrifice  of  personal  comfort  or  self- 
love.  The  same  affection  may  be  exercised  in  a  de- 
gree much  higher  in  itself,  and  often  much  more  useful 

Heads  under  which  the  exercise  of  the  benevolent  afiections  may  be 
treated  ?  Efforts  of  benevolence  and  of  justice  compared  ?  W^hich  superioj 
when  they  interfere.  Example.  First  class  of  objects  of  benevolent  effor: 
■Pecuniary  aid  ? 


84  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  Lie 

to  Others,  by  personal  exertion  and  personal  kindness. 
The  former,  compared  Avith  the  means  of  the  indivi- 
dual, may  present  a  mere  mockery  of  mercy;  while  d 
the  latter,  even  in  the  lowest  walks  of  life,  often  exhi-  ■ 
bit  the  brightest  displays  of  active  usefulness  that  can 
adorn  the  human  character.  This  high  and  pure 
benevolence  not  only  is  dispensed  with  willingness, 
Avhen  occasion^  present  themselves ;  but  seeks  out  op- 
portunities for  itself,  and  feels  in  want  of  its  natural 
and  healthy  exercise  when  deprived  of  an  object  on 
which  it  may  be  bestowed. 

(2.)  Benevolence  is  to  be  exercised  towards  the 
reputation  of  others.  This  consists  not  only  in  avoid- 
ing any  injury  to  their  characters,  but  in  exertions .  to 
protect  them  against  the  injustice  of  others, — to  correct 
misrepresentations,  to  check  the  course  of  slander, 
and  to  obviate  the  efforts  of  those  who  would  poison 
the  confidence  of  friends,  or  disturb  the  harmony  of 
society. 

(3.)  Benevolence  is  to  be  exercised  towards  the 
character  and  conduct  of  others ;  especially  when  these 
have  been  in  opposition  to  our  personal  interest  or 
self-love.  This  consists  in  viewing  their  conduct  with 
indulgence  and  forbearance,  assigning  the  most  favor- 
able motives,  and  making  every  allowance  for  their 
fechngs,  and  the  circumstances  in  whicli  they  were 
placed.     It  leads  us  also   to  avoid  all  suspicions  and 

Comparative  value  of  pecuniary  aid  and  personal  exertion?  Chararter 
of  the  higher  and  purer  degrees  of  benevolence.  Second  object  of  benevDlenl 
effort  ■?  In  what  does  it  consist  ?  Third  object?  In  what  does  it  consist' 
Assignment  of  motives. 


1 


SEC.  II.]  COMPASSION    AND    BENEVOLENCE.  85 

jealousies  which  are  not  clearly  justified  by  fact ;  and 
to  abstain  to  the  utmost  from  taking  offence,  by  put- 
tnig  upon  the  conduct  of  others  the  best  construction 
of  which  it  will  possibly  admit.  It  extends  still  farther 
to  the  actual  forgiveness  of  injuries,  and  the  repaying 
of  evil  with  good,— a  conduct  represented  in  the  sacred 
writings  as  one  of  the  highest  attainments  the  human 
character  can  reach,  in  so  far  as  regards  its  relation  to 
other  men. 

(4.)  Benevolence  is  to  be  exercised  towards  the 
feelings  of  others ;  and  this  applies  to  many  situations 
in  which  neither  their  interest  nor  their  character  is 
concerned.  It  includes  those  exercises  of  the  kindly 
affections  which  produce  so  powerful  an  influence  in 
all  the  relations  of  life,  but  which  it  is  impossible  for 
any  description  to  delineate.  It  comprehends  all  our 
social  and  civil  connections,  but  seems  peculiarly  to 
belong  to  our  intercourse  with  inferiors  and  dependents. 
Its  most  anxious  exercise  may  often  relate  merely  to 
trifles,  but  it  extends  to  innumerable  circumstances  in 
which  we  may  surrender  our  OAvn  feelings  to  those  of 
others,  and  our  own  convenience  or  gratification  to 
theirs.  It  implies  solicitude  to  avoid  wounding  the 
feelings  by  pride,  selfishness,  or  fretfulness,  by  sus- 
picions, imputations,  and  jealousies,  or  by  allowing 
insignificant  things  to  ruffle  the  temper  and  derange 
the  social  comfort.  Many,  who  are  not  deficient  in 
what  we  usually  call  deeds   of  benevolence,    are   too 


Suspicions?  Forgiveness  of  injuries.  How  is  forgiveness  spoken  o!  in 
Ihe  Scriptures  ?  Fourth  object.  What  included  in  regard  for  the  feelings 
of  others  ?     To  what  relation  does  ihis  peculiarly  apply  '?     Trifles  1 

8 


8b  AFFECTIONS  [PART  I. 

apt  to  forget,  that  a  most  important  exercise  of  true 
benevolence  consists  in  the  habitual  cultivation  of  cour- 
tesy, gentleness,  and  kindness ;  and  that  on  these  dis- 
positions often  depends  our  influence  upon  the  comfort 
and  happiness  of  others,  in  a  greater  degree  than  on 
any  deeds  of  actual  beneficence. — To  this  department, 
also,  we  may  refer  the  high  character  of  the  peace- 
maker, whose  delight  it  is  to  allay  angry  feelings,  even 
when  he  is  in  no  degree  personally  interested,  and  to 
bring  together  as  friends  and  brethren  those  who  have 
assumed  the  attitude  of  hatred  and  revenge. 

(5.)  Benevolence  is  to  be  exercised  in  regard  to  the 
moral  degradation  of  others,  including  their  ignorance 
and  vice.  This  prevents  us  from  deriving  satisfaction 
from  moral  evil,  even  though  it  should  contribute  to 
our  advantage,  as  might  often  happen  from  the  miscon- 
duct of  rivals  or  enemies.  It  implies  also  that  highest 
species  of  usefulness  which  aims  at  raising  the  moral 
condition  of  man,  by  mstructing  the  ignorant,  rescu- 
ing the  unwary,  and  reclaiming  the  vicious.  This 
exalted  benevolence  will  therefore  also  seek  to  extend 
the  light  of  divine  truth  to  nations  that  sit  in  moral 
darkness;  and  looks  anxiously  for  the  period  when 
the  knowledge  of  Christianity  shall  dispel  every  false 
faith,  and  put  an  end  to  the  horrors  of  superstition. 

Common  ways  of  wounding  the  feelings  of  others ?  The  peace-maker; 
his  influence.  Fifth  object.  What  does  it  forbid  ?  What  does  it  require  ? 
Duty  in  respect  to  heathen  nations. 


SEC.  II.  I  VERACITY.  S7 


III. VERACITY. 

In  our  own  mental  impressions  relating  to  veracity, 
we  have  a  striking  illustration  of  the  manner  in  which 
we  rely  on  this  class  of  moral  feelings,  as  instinctive  in 
the  constitution  of  the  mind.  On  a  certain  confidence 
in  the  veracity  of  mankind  is  founded  so  much  of  the 
knowledge  on  v/hich  we  constantly  depend,  that, 
without  it,  the  whole  system  of  human  things  would 
go  into  confusion.  It  relates  to  all  the  intelligence 
which  we  derive  from  any  other  source  than  our  own 
personal  observation: — for  example,  to  all  that  we 
receive  through  the  historian,  the  traveller,  the  natu- 
ralist, or  the  astronomer.  Even  in  regard  to  the  most 
common  events  of  a  single  day,  we  often  proceed  on  a 
confidence  in  the  veracity  of  a  great  variety  of  indivi- 
duals. There  is,  indeed,  a  natural  tendency  to  truth 
in  all  men,  unless  when  this  principle  is  overcome  by 
some  strong  selfish  purpose,  to  be  answered  by  depart- 
ing from  it ;  and  there  is  an  equally  strong  tendency 
to  rely  on  the  veracity  of  others,  until  we  have  learnt 
certain  cautions  by  our  actual  experience  of  mankind. 
Hence  children  and  inexperienced  persons  are  easily 
imposed  upon  by  unfounded  statements  ;  and  the 
most  practised  liar  confides  in  the  credulity  of  those 
whom  he  attempts  to  deceive.  Deception,  indeed, 
would  never  accomplish  its  purpose,  if  it  were  not 
from  the  impression  that  men  generally  speak  truth. 

Is  our  confidence  in  the  veracity  of  mankind  natural  or  acquired  ?  What 
portion  of  our  knowledge  rests  on  this  basis?  Proof  that  our  confidence  io 
the  veracity  of  mankind  is  instinctive  not  acquired.  What  gives  deceptiua 
Its  power  to  accomplish  its  purpose  ? 


88  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I 

It  is  obvious  also,  that  the  mutual  confidence  which 
men  have  in  each  other,  both  in  regard  to  veracity  of 
statement,  and  to  sincerity  of  intention  respecting  en- 
gagements, is  that  which  keeps  together  the  whole 
of  civil  society.  In  the  transactions  of  commerce  it  is 
indispensable,  and  without  it  all  the  relations  of  civil 
life  would  go  into  disorder.  When  treating  of  the  in- 
tellectual powers  in  another  work,  I  considered  the 
principles  which  regulate  our  confidence  in  human 
testimony ;  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  recur  to  them  in 
this  place.  Our  present  object  is  briefly  to  analyze  the 
elements  which  are  essential  to  veracity,  when  we  view 
it  as  a  moral  emotion,  or  a  branch  of  individual  cha- 
racter. These  appear  to  be  three, — correctness  in 
ascertaining  facts,  accuracy  in  relating  them,  and 
truth  of  purpose,  or  fidelity  in  the  fulfilment  of  pro- 
mises. 

(1.)  An  important  element  of  veracity  is  correctness 
in  ascertaining  facts.  This  is  essential  to  the  love 
of  truth.  It  requires  us  to  exercise  the  most  anxious 
care  respecting  every  statement  which  we  receive  as 
true ;  and  not  to  receive  it  as  such,  until  we  are  satis- 
fied that  the  authority  on  which  it  is  asserted  is  of  a 
nature  on  which  we  can  fully  rely,  and  that  the  state- 
ment contains  all  the  facts  to  which  our  attention 
ought  to  be  directed.  It  consecpiently  guards  us 
against  those  limited  views,  by  which  party  spirit  or  a 
love   of  favorite  dogmas  leads  a  man  to  receive  tlie 


What  cflects  would  follow  from  entire  want  of  confidence  between  man 
and  man?  How  many  elements  essential  to  veracity?  What  are  they** 
First  element  1     What  does  it  require  ?     Limited  views,  how  occasioned  ? 


SEC.  II.]  VERACITY.  89 

facts  which  favor  a  particular  ophiion,  and  neglect 
those  which  are  opposed  to  it.  The  sound  exercise 
of  judgment,  which  is  connected  with  this  love  of  truth, 
differs  therefore  from  the  art  of  ingenious  disputation, 
and  is  often  found  directly  at  variance  with  it.  The 
same  principle  is  applicable  to  the  truths  which  are 
derived  as  deductions  from  processes  of  reasoning.  It 
is  thus  opposed  to  all  sophistical  arguments,  and  par- 
tial or  distorted  reasonings,  by  which  disputants  strive 
to  establish  particular  systems,  instead  of  engaging  in 
an  honest  and  simple  inquiry  after  truth.  The  love 
of  truth,  therefore,  is  of  equal  importance  in  the  recep- 
tion of  facts,  and  in  the  formation  of  opinions ;  and  it 
includes  also  a  readiness  to  relinquish  our  own  opin- 
ions, when  new  facts  or  arguments  are  presented  to  us 
which  are  calculated  to  overturn  them.  The  practice 
of  this  sincere  and  candid  search  after  truth,  on  every 
subject  to  which  the  mind  may  be  directed,  ought  to 
be  cultivated  in  early  life  with  the  most  assiduous  care. 
It  is  a  habit  of  the  mind  which  must  exercise  a  must 
important  influence  in  the  culture  both  of  moral  and 
intellectual  character. 

In  the  reception  of  truth,  especially  on  the  evidence 
of  testimony,  we  acquire  by  experience  a  degree  of 
caution,  arising  from  having  been  sometimes  deceived. 
In  minds  of  a  certain  description,  this  may  be  allowed 
to  produce  a  suspicion  with  regard  to  all  evidence, — in 
other  words,  scepticism.  The  Avant  of  the  necessary 
and  proper  caution,   again,  leads   to   credidlty.     It   is 

Are  the  most  ingenious  disputants  always  most  successful  in  discoverin:! 
truth?  Importance  of  the  love  of  truth.  When  is  it  peculiarly  important 
that  it  should  be  cultivated?  Caution,  how  acquired?  Vhen  excess  ve 
what  is  it  called  ?     What  is  the  opposite  of  scepticism  ? 

8# 


90  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  i. 

the  pait  of  a  well-regulated  mind  to  avoid  both  these 
extremes,  by  attentively  weighing  the  evidence  and 
character  of  the  witnesses,  and  giving  to  each  circum- 
stance its  due  influence  in  the  conclusion. 

(2.)  Closely  connected  with  the  love  of  truth  m  re- 
ceiving, is  the  exercise  of  veracity  in  the  statement 
of  facts,  whether  derived  from  our  personal  observa- 
tion, or  received  by  testimony  from  others.  It  consists 
not  only  in  the  most  scrupulous  accuracy  of  relation, 
but  also  in  giving  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  convey  a 
correct  impression  to  the  hearer.  It  is  consequently 
opposed  to  all  those  methods  by  which  either  a  false 
statement  may  be  made  to  assume  the  appearance  of 
truth,  or  one  essentially  true  may  be  so  related  as  to 
convey  a  false  impression. 

Direct  fallacy  may  consist  in  the  alleged  facts  being 
absolutely  false,  or  in  some  of  them  being  so,  in  facts 
being  wanting  or  kept  out  of  view  which  would  give 
a  diflerent  import  to  the  whole  statement,  or  in  some 
of  the  facts  being  disguised,  distorted,  or  colored,  so  as 
to  alter  materially  tlie  impression  conveyed  by  them. 
But,  besides  such  actual  fallacy,  there  are  various  me- 
thods by  which  a  statement  literally  true  may  be  so 
related  as  to  convey  an  erroneous  impression.  Facts 
may  be  connected  together  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
give  the  appearance  of  a  relation  of  cause  and  eflect, 
when  they  are  in  truth  entirely  unconnected;  or  an 
event  may  be  represented  as  common  which  has  oc- 

Which  of  these  extremes  is  most  common  among:  the  young  ?  Second 
element  of  veracity  .'  Its  nature.  To  what  is  it  opposed  ?  Different  species 
of  fallacy.  Can  a  statement  be  literally  trie  and  vet  convey  a  fidse  impres- 
sion? 


SEC.  n.J  VERACITY.  91 

curred  only  in  one  or  two  instances.  The  character 
of  an  individual  may  be  assumed  from  a  single  act, 
which,  if  the  truth  were  known,  might  be  seen  to  be 
opposed  to  his  real  disposition,  and  accounted  for  by 
the  circumstances  in  which  he  happened  at  the  time  to 
be  placed.  Events  may  be  connected  together,  which 
were  entirely  disjoined,  and  conclusions  deduced  from 
this  fictitious  connection,  which  are  of  course  unfound- 
ed. Several  of  these  sources  of  fallacy  may  be  illus- 
trated by  a  ludicrous  example. — A  traveller  from  the 
continent  has  represented  the  venality  of  the  British 
house  of  commons  to  be  such,  that,  whenever  the 
minister  of  the  crown  enters  the  house,  there  is  a 
general  cry  for  "  places."  It  may  be  true  that  a  cry 
of  "places"  has  gone  round  the  house  at  certain 
times,  when  business  was  about  to  commxCnce,  or  to  be 
resiuned  after  an  interval,  meaning,  of  course,  that 
members  were  to  take  their  seats.  It  is  very  probable, 
that,  on  some  occasion,  this  may  have  occurred  at  the 
moment  when  the  minister  entered ;  so  that  the  state- 
ment of  the  traveller  might,  in  point  of  fact,  be  strictly 
true.  The  erroneous  impression  which  he  endeavors 
to  convey  by  it,  arises  from  three  sources  of  fallacy, 
which  the  anecdote  will  serve  to  illustrate,  namely,— 
the  false  meaning  he  gives  to  the  word  employed, 
connecting  it  with  the  entrance  of  the  minister  as 
cause  and  effect,  and  representing  the  connection  as 
uniform  which  happened  to  occur  in  that  particular 
instance.  In  the  same  manner  it  will  appear,  that  a 
false  impression  may  be  conveyed  respectmg  the  con- 
In  yhat  ways  ?  Example  illustrating  this.  Relate  the  anecdote.  Tlie 
explanation  of  it.     Was  the  account  of  the  traveller  literally  true  or  false  1 


•J2  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I.  3 

duct  of  an  individual,  by  assigning  motives  which  are  i 
entirely    imaginary,    by   connecting    tilings    together  tl 
which  have  no  relation,  by  keeping  out  of  view  cir- 
cumstances  which   would   afford   an   explanation    or  f 
palliation  of  his  conduct,  or  by  attaching  to  his  words 
a  different  meaning  from  that  which  he  intended  to 
convey  by  them.     The  common  saying,  that  there  are 
two  ways  of  telling  a  story,  does  not  therefore  refer  to 
what  is  strictly  to  be  called  fabrication  or  falsehood; 
but  to  those  distortions  or  colorings  of  circumstances,, 
which,  however  slight  in  themselves,  have  the  effect  13 
of  essentially  changing  the  impression  made  by  the)] 
whole. 

To  veracity,  under  this  department,  we  are  also  to 
refer  the  rule,  of  giving  to  others  an  honest  and  fair 
impression  of  our  views,  motives,  and  intentions. 
This  is  sincerity.  It  is  opposed  to  hypocrisy,  that 
unworthy  display  of  human  character,  in  which  a 
man  disguises  his  real  sentiments,  and,  on  the  con- 
trary, professes  principles  which  he  neither  feels  nor 
values,  merely  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  his  selfish 
interests.  Such  a  character  exhibits  a  singular  com- 
bination of  moral  delinquencies.  It  is  founded  on  the 
lowest  selfishness,  and  includes  a  departure  from  vera- 
city and  honesty.  But,  besides,  it  implies  a  know- 
ledge of  virtuous  principles  and  of  their  proper  ten- 
dencies, while  there  is  a  practical  denial  of  their  influ- 
ence. Sincerity  is  also  opposed  to  flattery,  which  \ 
tends  to  give  a  man  a  false  impression  of  our  opinion, 

If  intended  to  be  received  seriously  would  it  have  lieen  morally  true  or 
false?  Common  proverb.  To  what  does  it  refer  ?  What  is  suicerity  ?  To 
what  trait  of  character  is  it  opi)osed  ?  Nature  of  hypocrisy.  V^onsiticr.iti  »ns 
which  aggravate  its  guilt.     Flattery. 


SEC.  TI.]  FRIENDSHIP,    LOVE,   AND    GRATITUDE.  93 

and  of  our  feelings  towards  him,  and  likewise  leads 
him  to  fornri  a  false  estimate  of  his  own  character.  It 
is  opposed  also  to  simulation  or  double-dealing,  by 
which  a  man,  for  certain  purposes,  professes  senti- 
ments towards  another  which  he  does  not  feel,  or  in- 
tentions which  he  does  not  entertain. 

(3.)  The  third  element  of  veracity  is  truth  of  pur- 
pose, or  fidelity  in  the  fulfilment  of  promises.  This  is. 
opposed  to  actual  departure  from  what  was  distinctly 
promised ;  likewise  to  all  those  evasions  by  which  one 
ma^y  convey  an  impression,  or  excite  the  hope,  of  an 
intention  which  he  does  not  mean  to  fulfil,  or  avoid 
the  performance  of  a  real  or  implied  engagement  on 
any  other  ground  than  inability  to  perform  it.  By 
this  straight-forward  integrity  of  purpose,  an  indivi- 
dual gives  a  clear  impression  of  what  he  honestly  in- 
tends to  perform;  and  performs  it,  though  circum- 
stances may  have  occurred  to  make  the  fulfilment  dis- 
agreeable or  even  injurious  to  himself: — '^  he  sweareth 
to  his  own  hurt,"  says  a  sacred  writer,  ''  and  changeth 
not." 


IV. FRIENDSHIP,    LOVE,    AND    GRATITUDE. 

These  affections  are  so  nearly  allied,  that,  in  this 
slight  analysis,  they  may  be  taken  together.  They 
consist  in  a  personal  and  peculiar  attachment  to  an 

Its  nature  and  effects  ?  Simulation,  what  ?  Third  element  of  veracity  ? 
Indirect  ways  of  avoiding  the  fulfilment  flf  engagements  ?  Passage  of 
Scripture  relating  to  this  subject.  What  three  affections  are  classed  together 
uader  the  next  head  ? 


94  AFFECTIONS.  [PARTI,.f 

individual,  founded  either  upon  some  qualities  in  him- 
self, or  some  benefits  he  has  conferred  on  us,  or  on  i 
some  one  in  whom  we  are  interested.  The  feelings  ;' 
and  conduct  to  which  they  give  rise  correspond  with 
those  leferred  to  under  the  preceding  affections,  with 
this  difference,  that,  in  many  instances,  they  lead  to  ai, 
much  greater  sacrifice  of  personal  interest  and  com--, 
fort,  than  usually  proceeds  either  from  justice  or  sim-  [ 
pie  benevolence.  Tlie  exertions  arising  out  of  themii 
are  directed,  according  to  the  division  formerly  given,.; 
to  promoting  the  interest  or  comfort  of  the  object  of  : 
our  regard,  preserving,  defending,  or  advancing..his^ 
reputation,  treating  his  feelings  with  peculiar  tender-  , 
ness,  and  his  failings  with  peculiar  indulgence,  re-- 
ceivinghis  opinions  with  peculiar  favor,  and  anxiously, 
endeavoring  to  improve  his  intellectual  and  moral  con-  -, 
dition.  This  last  consideration  is  justly  reckoned  the  c 
highest  office  of  friendship  : — it  is  to  be  regretted  thatt^ 
its  operation  is  sometimes  impeded  by  another  feeling, .; 
which  leads  us  to  be  blind  to  the  failings  and  deficien-  -| 
cies  of  those  whom  we  love.  In  exercising  simple  , 
love  and  friendship,  we  rejoice  in  the  advantage  and' 
happiness  of  the  object,  though  they  should  be  accom-  | 
plished  by  others ;  but,  in  exercising  gratitude,  we  are  ^ 
not  satisfied  unless  they  be  effected  in  some  measure  \ 
by  ourselves. 


Are  they  precisely  identical  ?  Difference  between  these  affections  and  1 
the  preceding.  Various  modes  in  which  they  operate.  The  highest  office  ; 
of  friendship,  what?     Difference  noticed  between  friendship  and  gratitude 7  ' 


SEC.  n.]  PATRIOTISM.  95 


V. — PATRIOTISM. 

Patriotism  is,  perhaps,  not  properly  to  be  considered 
as  a  distinct  principle  of  our  nature ;  but  rather  as  a 
result  of  a  combination  of  the  other  affections.  It 
leads  us,  by  every  means  in  our  power,  to  promote  the 
peace  and  the  prosperity  of  our  country,  and  to  dis- 
courage, to  the  utmost  of  our  ability,  whatever  tends 
to  the  contrary.  Every  member  of  the  community 
has  something  in  his  power  in  this  respect.  He  may 
set  an  example,  in  his  own  person,  of  dutiful  and  loyal 
respect  to  the  first  authority,  of  strict  obedience  to  the 
laws,  and  respectful  submission  to  the  institutions  of 
his  country.  He  may  oppose  the  attempts  of  factious 
individuals  to  sow  among  the  ignorant  the  seeds  of 
discontent,  tumult,  or  discord.  He  may  oppose  and 
repress  attempts  to  injure  the  revenue  of  the  state; 
may  aid  in  the  preservation  of  public  tranquillity,  and 
in  the  execution  of  public  justice.  Finally,  he  may 
zealously  exert  himself  in  increasing  the  knowledge 
and  improving  the  moral  habits  of  the  people, — two  of 
the  most  important  means  by  which  the  conscientious 
man,  in  any  rank  of  life,  may  aid  in  conferring  a  high 
and  permanent  benefit  on  his  country. 


Fifth  class  of  affections.     Nature  of  patriotism?    Its  effects?    Vaiiou« 
ways  in  which  ever    'ndividual  may  uromote  the  welfare  of  his  country. 


^  THE    DOMESTIC    AFFECTIONS.  [PART  L  .? 


n. THE    DOMESTIC    AFFECTIONS. 


In  this  extensive  and  interesting  class  are  included,  ^ 
conjugal   affection,    the  parental  feelings,   filial  reve- 
rence, and  the  ties  of  brothers  and  sisters.     These  call 
forth,  in  a  still  higher  degree,  the  feelings  and  exer--f 
tions  already  referred  to,  and  a  still  greater  sacrifice  \ 
of  personal  ease,  advantage  and  comfort,  in  the  anxious  \ 
and   diligent  discharge  of  the  duties   resulting  from  <; 
them.     In  the  conjugal  relation,  they  lead  us   to  the^j' 
tenderness,    the   confidence,    the  mutual  forbearance,  f 
the  united  exertions  of  those,  who  have  one  hope,  one^^ 
interest,  and  one  course  of  duty.     The  parental  rela-- 
tion  implies  the  highest  possible  degree  of  that  feeling  r 
which  studies  the  advantage  of  the  object  of  our  care,  /, 
the  promotion  of  his  happiness,  the  improvement  of 
his  mind,  the  culture  of  his  affections,  the  formation  \ 
of  his  habits ;  the  anxious  watching  over  the  deve*'-" 
lopment  of  his  character,  both  as  an  intellectual  and  a 
moral  being.     The  filial  relation  requires,  in  an  equal 
degree,  respect,  affection,  submission,  and  confidence  ; 
a  deference  to  parental  opinion  and  control ;  and  ail 
impression  that  those  parts  of  parental  management,  ,' 
which   may  often   be  disagreeable,   are  guided  by  Hi 
sincere  desire  to  promote  the  highest  interests  of  the  3 
object  of  this  affectionate  regard. 

Among  the  feelings  of  our  nature  "  which  have  less  ? 
of  earth  in  them  than  heaven,"  are  those  which  bind  i 


Sixth  class  of  affections.     What  are  included  in  the  domestic  affecti^wial  ^ 

What  is  said  of  the  duties  of  the  conjugal  relation  ? of  the  parental     ',^ 

of  the  filial? 


SEC.  II.]  THE    DOMESTIC    AFFECTIONS.  97 

together  the  domestic  circle  in  the  various  sympathies, 
affections  and  duties,  which  belong  to  this  class  of 
tender  relations.  It  is  beautiful  also  to  observe,  how 
these  affections  arise  out  of  each  other,  and  how  the 
right  exercise  of  them  tends  to  their  mutual  cultivation. 
The  father  ought  to  consider  the  son  as,  of  all  earthly 
concerns,  the  highest  object  of  his  anxious  care ;  and 
should  watch  over  the  development  of  his  intellectual 
character,  and  the  culture  of  his  moral  feelings.  In 
the  zealous  prosecution  of  this  great  purpose,  he  should 
study  to  convey  a  clear  impression,  that  he  is  influ- 
enced purely  by  a  feeling  of  solemn  responsibility,  and 
an  anxious  desire  to  promote  the  highest  interests. 
When  parental  watchfulness  -is  thus  mingled  with 
confidence  and  kindness,  the  son  will  naturally  learn 
♦o  estimate  alike  the  conduct  itself,  and  the  principles 
from  which  it  sprung,  and  will  look  to  the  faithful 
parent  as  his  safest  guide  and  counsellor,  and  most 
valued  earthly  friend.  If  we  extend  the  same  princi- 
ples to  the  relation  between  the  mother  and  the  daugh- 
ter, they  apply  with  equal  or  even  greater  force.  In 
the  arrangements  of  society,  these  are  thrown  more 
constantly  into  each  other's  company  ;  and  that 
watchful  superintendence  ma\^  be  still  more  habitually 
exercised,  which,  along  with  the  great  concern  of  cul- 
tivating the  intellectual  and  moral  being,  neglects  not 
those  graces  and  delicacies  which  belong  peculiarly  to 
the  female  character.  It  is  not  by  direct  instruction 
alone,  that,  in  such  a  domestic  circle,  the  highest  prin- 

Remarks  upon  the  domestic  affections  p;enerally,  Dutj^  of  a  father  ?  Tha 
nother  and  daughter.  Nature  of  their  connection.  Is  direct  instruction  tha 
nly  means  of  doing:  good  in  the  domestic  circle  ? 

9 


98  THE  DEFENSIVE  AFFECTIONS.        [PART  I. 

ciples  and  best  feelings  of  our  nature  are  cultivated  ir 
the  minds  of  the  young.     It  is  by  the  actual  exhibition  j 
of  the  principles  themselves,  and  a  uniform  recognition  [ 
of  their  supreme  importance ;  it  is  by  a  parental  con- 
duct,  steadily  manifesting  the  conviction,   that,  with  i 
every  proper  attention  to  the  acquirements,  the  accom- 
plishments, and  the  comforts  of  life,  the  chief  concern  ' 
of  moral  beings  relates  to  the  life  which  is  to  come. 
A  domestic  society,  bound  together  by  these  principles, 
can  retire,  as  it  were,  from  the  haunts  of  men,  and  l? 
retreat  within  a  sanctuary  where  the  storms  of  the  i 
world  cannot  enter.     When  thus  met  together  in  the  •; 
interchange  of  mutual  affection  and  mutual  confidence, 
they  present  the  anticipation  of  that  period,  when,  after 
the  tumults  of  life  are  over,  they  shall  meet  again,  ' 
''no  wanderer  lost,  a  family  in  heaven." 


THE  DEFENSIVE  AFFECTIONS. 

The  feelings  of  jealousy,  anger,  and  resentment,  are, 
not  less  than  the  other  affections,  to  be  considered  as  : 
part  of  our  moral  constitution  ;  and  th^y  are  calculated  i^ 
to  answer  important  purposes,  provided  they  are  kept  i 
under  tbe  strict  control  of  reason  and  the  moral  prin-  • 
ciple.  Their  proper  object  is  primarily  a  sense  of  bla-  • 
mable  conduct  in  others ;  and  they  lead  us  to  use  ;< 
•proper  measures  for  protecting  ourselves  against  such  i' 
conduct.  While  we  thus  disapprove  of  the  character  ' 
and  conduct  of  men  in  certain  circumstances,  we  are  i 


What  other  means  are  more  powerful  ?    What  included  under  the  defe& 
fcsTP  nrt'ri'tioiis  ?     Their  dosifrn  niid  tendency  ? 


WC.  II.]        THE  DEFENSIVE  AFFECTIONS.  99 

led,  by  our  feelings  of  justice  and  benevolence,  to  take 
part  with  the  injured  and  oppressed  against  the  op- 
pressors, or  to  protect  those  who  are  threatened  with 
injuries,  by  measures  for  defeating  the  scheme-*  of  their 
enemies.  A  still  more  refined  exercise  of  Jiis  class 
of  feelings  leads  us  to  seek  the  reformation  of  the 
offender,  and  to  convert  him  from  an  enemy  into  a 
friend. 

Resentment,  in  cases  which  concern  the  publio 
peace,  naturally  leads  to  the  infliction  of  punishment- 
the  object  of  which  is  to  prevent  similar  conduct  in 
others,  not  to  gratily  personal  vengeance.  Hence  it  is 
required  to  be  done  in  a  public  manner,  with  proper 
deliberation  and  coolness,  and  with  an  exact  adapta- 
tion of  the  penalty  to  the  offence,  and  to  the  object  to 
be  attained.  The  person  injured  is  not  likely  to  do 
this  with  the  requisite  impartiality  and  candor  ;  for  we 
are  apt  to  feel  too  deeply  injuries  offered  to  ourselves, 
and  not  to  make  the  proper  allowance  for  the  feelings 
of  others,  and  the  circumstances  which  led  to  the  offence. 
The  higher  degrees,  indeed,  of  these  tendencies  usually 
go  together, — they,  who  are  most  susceptible  of  oflences, 
and  most  irritable  under  them,  being  generally  least 
inclined  to  make  allowances  for  others.  Hence,  in  all 
cases,  our  disapprobation  of  persr  al  vengeance,  or  of 
a  man  taking  the  law  into  his  own  hands ;  and  our 
perfect  sympathy  with  the  protectors  of  the  public 
peace,  when  they  dispassionately  investigate  a  case 
of  injury,  and  calmly  adapt  their  measures  to  the  real 

Their  effects  in  reference  to  the  oppressed?  Punishment;  its  object'.' 
How  must  it  be  inflicted  to  answer  these  purposes  ?  Why  ought  injuries  to 
\3c  punished  by  the  state  rather  than  by  the  particular  person  injured  ? 


100  /VFFECTIONS.  [PAtlT  I. 

object  to  be  attained  by  them,  the  protection  of  the 
community. 

The  defensive  affections  are  exercised  in. an  unwar- 
ranted manner,  when  they  are  allowed  to  be  excited 
by  trifling  causes;  when  they  are,  in  degree,  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  offence,  or  prolonged  in  a  manner  which 
it  did  not  require ;  and  when  they  lead,  in  any  mea- 
sure, to  retaliation  or  revenge.  The  sound  exercise 
of  them,  therefore,  is  opposed  to  that  irascibility  which 
takes  fire  on  trivial  occasions,  or  without  due  conside- 
ration of  the  intentions  of  the  agent,  or  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  was  placed ;  to  a  disposition  to 
■  resentment  on  occasions  which  do  not  warrant  it ;  and, 
on  all  occasions,  to  harboring  the  feeling  after  the 
offence  and  all  its  consequences  have  passed  over. 


Before  concluding  the  subject  of  the  affections,  there 
are  three  points  respecting  them  which  remain  to  be 
mentioned  as  briefly  as  possible, — the  influence  of  atten- 
tion, combined  with  a  certain  act  of  imagination,  the 
influence  of  habit,  and  the  estimate  of  the  feeling  of 
moral  approbation  which  the  exercise  of  the  affections 
is  calculated  to  produce. 

I.  In  every  exercise  of  the  aflfections,  a  most  impoi- 
tant  influence  is  produced  by  attention,  aided  by  a 
certain  act  of  imagination.     This  consists  in   directing 

Unwarrantable  exercise  of  the  dcfeasive  affections.  Three  points  sug- 
gfisted  in  respect  to  the  afU'ctions. 


FIX'.  II  ]  INFLUENCE    OF   ATTENTION.  101 

the  mind  intensely  and  habitually  to  all  the  considera- 
tions which  ought  to  guide  us  in  the  particular  relation 
to  which  the  affection  refers.  It  leads  us  to  place  our- 
selves in  the  situation  of  others,  and,  with  a  kind  of 
personal,  or  almost  selfish  interest,  to  enter  into  their 
wants,  their  anxieties  and  their  feelings  ;  and  thus,  in 
their  place,  to  judge  of  the  emotions  and  the  conduct 
which  are  due  from  us  to  them.  Such  is  the  exercise 
of  one  who  wishes  to  follow  the  great  rule  of  doing  to 
others  as  he  would  that  they  should  do  to  him.  He  is 
not  satisfied  with  the  merely  decent  discharge  of  the 
duties  which  arise  from  the  affections,  but  studies  in- 
tensely the  requirements  which  attach  to  his  particular 
situation,  searches  out  the  individuals  towards  whom 
they  ought  to  be  exercised,  and  enters  into  their  con- 
dition and  their  feelings  with  minute  and  tender  inte- 
rest, ^lany  who  show  no  want  of  friendly  and  bene- 
volent affection,  when  an  individual  case  is  strongly 
brought  before  them,  are  deficient  in  the  kind  of  exer- 
cise which  would  lead  them,  in  this  manner,  to  find 
their  way  to  that  correct  exercise  of  the  affections 
which  really  belongs  to  a  scene  of  moral  discipline. 
Such  an  exercise  is  adapted  to  every  situation  in  life,  and 
tends  to  guard  a  man,  in  his  various  relations,  against 
the  hindrances  which  indolence,  self-love,  and  pure 
inattention  are  apt  to  bring  in  the  way  of  his  peculiar 
duties,  and  of  his  discharsfinof  them  with  due  resjard 
to  the  feelings  of  others. 

This  mental  exercise,  of  extensive  application  to  the 

How  does  the  exercise  of  the  attention  operate  in  influencing  the  affec- 
tions ?  Obeying  the  golden  rule ;  what  required  by  it  ?  Necessity  of  active 
^ort  and  sympathy. 


102  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I. 

benevolent  affections,  constitutes  what  is  usually  called 
sympathy.  It  is  composed  of  an  act  of  imagination 
and  self-love,  by  which  we  transfer  ourselves,  as  it 
were,  into  the  situation  of  other  men,  and  thereby  re- 
gulate our  conduct  towards  them.  It  is  however  to  be 
kept  in  mind,  that  the  principle  of  self-love,  thus  brought 
into  action,  is  the  test,  not  the  rule  of  our  conduct. 
This  is  a  point  on  which  there  has  been  much  vague 
and  useless  speculation ;  and,  from  not  attending  to 
the  distinction,  some  have  referred  our  ideas  of  bene- 
volence entirely  to  the  principle  of  selfishness.  Such 
discussions  are  equally  unsound  and  unprofitable,  and 
are  to  be  placed  on  a  footing  with  the  speculations  of 
the  scholastic  philosophy,  which  we  now  look  back 
upon  merely  as  matters  of  historical  curiosity.  The 
application  of  self-love,  in  the  manner  which  has  been 
referred  to,  is  chiefly  useful  in  enabling  us  fully  to 
appreciate  the  facts  of  the  individual  case,  as  we  would 
do  if  we  were  personally  interested.  The  rule  of  our 
conduct  is  quite  distinct  from  this,  and  rests  on  those 
fundamental  principles  of  justice  and  compassion  which 
form  a  part  of  our  moral  constitution.  In  the  practical 
application  of  them,  they  are  very  much  aided  by  the 
moral  principle  or  conscience. 

The  man  who  acts  habitually  under  the  influence 
of  these  rules,  learns  to  question  himself  rigidly  re- 
spectmg  the  claims  and  duties  which  result  from  his 
moral  relations;  and  the  feelings  and  circumstances 
of  those   with    whom   they   bring   him   into   contact. 


Of  what  elements  does  the  author  consider  sympathy  composed  ?  Useless 
speculations  on  this  subject.  Character  of  the  man  who  acts  under  the 
influence  of  these  rules. 


SEC.  II.J  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  103 

What,  (he  asks  himself,)  is  the  Une  of  action  which 
belongs  to  me  in  regard  to  that  individual, — what  are 
his  feelings  in  his  present  situation ;  what  are  the  feel- 
ings and  conduct  which  he  expects  from  me, — and  what 
are  those  which  I  would  expect  from  him  were  I  in 
his  circumstances  and  he  in  mine  ?  It  is  not  a  due 
regulation  of  the  affections  alone  that  arises  from  this 
wholesome  state  of  mental  discipline.  It  is  a  moral 
culture  to  the  mind  itself,  which  may  often  be  fraught 
with  the  most  important  results,  for  the  man  who 
exercises  it  realizes  to  himself  the  feelings  of  poverty, 
the  agonies  of  bereavement,  the  impressions  of  the  bed 
of  death ;  and  thus,  without  the  pain  of  suffering,  he 
may  reap  a  portion  of  those  important  moral  benefits 
which  suffering  is  calculated  to  yield. 

There  is  another  view  still  to  be  taken  of  the  advan- 
tages derived  from  that  mental  discipline  which  con- 
sists in  attenJ;ion  to  all  the  relations  included  under  the 
affections.  When  habitually  exercised,  it  may  often 
bring  before  the  mind  important  circumstances  in  our 
moral  relations,  which  are  apt  to  make  an  inadequate 
impression  amid  the  distractions  of  present  things. 
When  the  parent,  for  example,  looks  around  the  objects 
of  his  tender  affection,  what  a  new  impulse  is  commu- 
nicated by  the  thought,  that  the  present  life  is  but  the 
infancy  of  their  being;  and  that  his  chief  and  highest 
concern  is  to  train  them  for  immortality.  A  similar 
impulse  must  be  given  to  the  philanthropist,  when  he 
considers  that  the  individuals,  who  share  his  benevo- 

Three  test  questions.  What  effect  does  the  habit  of  sympathy  with  the 
sufferings  of  others  produce  upon  the  character  ?  Another  advantage  of  the 
mental  discipline  referred  to.  Example  ;  the  parent.  Thoughts  connected 
with  the  sight  of  his  children.  ^ 


104  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I. 

lent  attentions,  are,  like  himself,  passing  through  a 
scene  of  discipline  to  a  higher  state  of  existence,  Av^here 
they  will  assume  a  place  corresponding  to  their  rank 
in  the  scale  of  moral  beings.  The  refined  philanthropy 
thus  arising,  while  it  neglects  no  proper  attention  to 
the  distresses  of  the  present  life,  will  seek  chiefly  to 
contend  with  those  greater  evils  which  degrade  the 
moral  nature,  and  sever  the  immortal  spirit  from  its 
God.  He,  who  judges  upon  this  extended  principle, 
will  learn  to  form  a  new  estimate  of  the  condition  of 
man.  Amid  the  pride  of  wealth  and  the  splendor  of 
power,  he  may  mourn  over  a  being  lost  to  every  feeling 
of  his  high  destiny  ;  and,  by  the  death-bed  of  the 
peasant,  amid  discomfort  and  suffering,  he  may  con- 
template with  interest  a  purified  spirit  rising  to  immor- 
tality. 

II.  Next  to  the  power  of  attention,  we  l]ave  to  notice 
the  influence  produced  upon  the  affections  by  habit. 
This  is  founded  upon  a  principle  of  our  nature,  by  wliich 
a  remarkable  relation  exists  between  the  affections 
and  the  actions  which  arise  out  of  them.  The  ten- 
dency of  all  emotions  is  to  Dccome  weaker  by  repeti- 
tion, or  to  be  less  acutely  felt  the  oftener  they  are  ex- 
perienced. The  tendency  of  actions,  again,  as  we 
have  seen  when  treating  of  the  intellectual  powers,  is 
to  become  easier  by  repetition,  so  that  those,  which  at 
first  require  close  and  continued  attention,  come  to  be 
performed    without   oftbrt,    and    ahnost    without   con- 

Refleclions   of   the   philanthropist.     EfTcct   of   siirh   reflections.     Proper 
estimate  of  the  condition  of  men.     Second  tjroiit  cause  influencing  the  at](?c- 

hons.     What  is  the  efTcct  of  repetition  upon  the  emotions'?    upon  the 

actions  ? 


bEC.  II.]  INFLUENCE    OF    HABIT.  105 

sciousness.  Now  an  affection  properly  consists  of  an 
emotion  leading  to  an  action  :  and  the  natural  progress 
of  the  mind,  in  the  proper  exercise  of  the  affection,  is, 
that  the  emotion  becomes  less  acutely  felt,  as  the  action 
becomes  easier  and  more  familiar.  Thus,  a  scene  of 
wretchedness,  or  a  tale  of  sorrow,  will  produce  in  the 
inexperienced  an  intensity  of  emotion  not  felt  by  him 
whose  life  has  been  devoted  to  deeds  of  mercy ;  and  a 
superficial  observer  is  apt  to  consider  the  condition  of 
the  latter  as  one  of  insensibility,  produced  by  famili- 
arity with  scenes  of  distress.  It  is,  on  the  contrary, 
that  healthy  and  natural  progress  of  the  mind,  in 
which  the  emotion  is  gradually  diminished  in  force  as 
it  is  followed  by  its  proper  actions,  that  is,  as  the  mere 
intensity  of  feeling  is  exchanged  for  the  habit  of  active 
benevolence.  But  that  this  may  take  place  iu  the 
sound  and  healthy  manner,  the  emotion  must  be 
steadily  followed  by  the  action  which  belongs  to  it. 
If  this  be  neglected,  the  harmony  of  the  moral  process 
is  destroyed,  and,  as  the  emotion  becomes  weakened, 
it  is  succeeded  by  cold  insensibility  or  barren  selfish- 
ness. 

This  is  a  subject  of  much  importance,  and  there  are 
two  conclusions  which  arise  out  of  it  respecting  the 
cultivation  of  the  benevolent  affections.  The  one  re- 
lates to  the  bad  effects  of  fictitious  scenes  of  sorrow, 
as  represented  on  the  stage,  or  in  works  of  fancy. 
The  evil  arising  from  these  appears  to  be  that  which 
has  now  been   referred  to :  the  emotion  is   produced 

What  IS  the  effect  of  repetition  upon  the  affections  ?  Example  given,  illus- 
trative of  this  ?  Nature  of  the  effect  produced  hy  familiarity  with  suffering. 
Tv,'o  conclusions  from  this  truth.  Fictitious  sufferings.  How  do  thev  affecl 
the  mind  ? 


!06  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  1. 

withoiil  the  corresponding  action,  and  tlie  conseqnence 
is  likely  to  be  a  cold  and  useless  sentimeiitalism,  in- 
stead of  a  sound  cultivation  of  the  benevolent  affec- 
tions. The  second  is,  that,  in  cultivating  the  benevo- 
lent alfections  in  the  young,  we  should  be  careful  to 
observe  the  process  so  clearly  pointed  out  by  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  moral  feelings.  They  should  be  familiar- 
ized with  actual  scenes  of  suffering,  but  this  ought  to 
be  accompanied  by  deeds  of  minute  and  active  kind- 
ness, so  as  to  produce  a  full  and  lively  impression  of 
the  wants  and  feelings  of  the  sufferer.  On  this  ground, 
also,  I  thi;ik  we  should  at  first  even  abstain,  in  a  great 
measure,  from  giving  young  persons  the  cautions  they 
will  afterwards  find  so  requisite,  respecting  the  charac- 
ters of  the  objects  of  their  benevolence,  and  the  impo- 
sitions so  frequently  practised  by  the  poor.  Suspicions 
of  this  kind  might  tend  to  interfere  with  the  important 
moral  process  which  ought  to  be  our  first  object;  the 
necessary  cautions  will  afterwards  be  learned  with 
little  difficulty. 

The  best  mode  of  contending  with  the  evils  of  pau- 
perism, on  the  principles  of  political  economy,  is  a 
problem  on  which  I  presume  not  to  enter.  But,  on  the 
principles  of  moral  science,  a  consideration  of  the  ut- 
most importance  should  never  be  forgotten, — the  great 
end  to  be  answered  by  the  varieties  of  human  condition 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  benevolent  affections.  Political 
science  passes  its  proper  boundary,  when  it  is  per- 
mitted in  any  degree  to  interfere  with  this  high  prin- 

What  evil  results  from  this?  Rule  in  respect  to  the  training  of  the 
Vcung?  Effect  of  cautioninar  them  too  much  as^aiiist  imposture.  Great 
suhject  in  political  economy  mentioned  here?  What  is  one  great  olgect  ot 
the  varieties  in  the  human  condition  ? 


SEC.  11.]     MORAL  APPROBATION  DUE  TO  THEM.        107 

ciple ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  to  be  denied, 
that  this  important  purpose  is  in  a  great  measure  frus- 
trated  by  many  of  those  institutions,  which  cut  off  the 
direct  intercourse  of  the  prosperous  and  the  weahhy 
with  those  whom  Providence  has  committed  to  them, 
in  this  scene  of  moral  disciphne,  as  the  objects  of  their 
benevolent  care. 

III.  The  third  point,  which  remains  to  be  brietiy 
mentioned,  is  the  feehng  of  moral  approbation,  or 
rather  the  impression  of  merit,  which  is  frequently 
attached  to  the  exercise  of  the  affections.  This  impor- 
tant subject  has  been  already  referred  to.  When  the 
mother,  with  total  disregard  to  her  health  and  comfort, 
devotes  herself  to  watching  over  her  child,  she  is  not 
influenced  by  any  sense  of  duty,  nor  do  we  attach  to 
her  conduct  the  feeling  of  moral  approbation.  She 
acts  simply  upon  an  impulse  within,  which  she  per- 
ceives to  be  a  part  of  her  constitution,  and  which 
carries  her  forward  with  unshrinking  firmness  in  a 
particular  course  of  laborious  and  anxious  service. 
She  may,  indeed,  be  sensible  that  the  violation  of  these 
feelings  would  expose  her  to  the  reprobation  of  her 
kind;  but  she  does  not  imagine  that  the  zealous  fulfil- 
ment of  them  entitles  her  to  any  special  praise.  The 
same  principle  applies  to  all  the  affections.  They  are 
a  part  of  our  moral  constitution,  intended  to  bind  men 
together  by  certain  offices  of  justice,  friendship,  and 
compassion ;  and  have  been  well  named  by  a  distin- 


One  unfavorable  effect  of  public  charitable  institutions  ?  Third  point 
relating  to  this  subject.  True  moral  nature  of  these  affections  illustrated  by 
.t)e  case  of  the  mother.     Design  of  these  feelings  as  implanted  by  God. 


108  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I. 

guislied  writer,  "  the  voice  of  God  within  us."  They 
serve  a  purpose  in  our  moral  economy  analogous  to 
that  whicli  the  appetites  answer  in  our  physical  sys- 
tem. The  appetite  of  hunger,  for  example,  ensures  a 
regular  supply  of  nourishment,  in  a  manner  which 
could  never  have  been  provided  for  by  any  process  of 
reasoning;  though  an  exercise  of  reason  is  still  appli- 
cable to  preserving  over  it  a  certain  regulation  and 
control.  In  the  same  manner,  the  various  feelings  of 
our  moral  nature  have  each  a  defined  purpose  to  an- 
swer, both  in  respect  to  our  own  mental  economy  and 
our  relations  to  our  fellow-men ;  and  in  the  due  exer- 
cise of  them  they  ought  to  be  controlled  and  regulated 
bv  the  moral  principle.  The  violation  of  these  feel- 
mgs,  therefore,  places  man  below  the  level  of  a  moral 
being;  bat  the  performance  of  them  does  not  entitle 
him  to  assume  the  claim  of  merit,  lie  is  merely  bear- 
ing his  part  in  a  certain  arrangement,  from  which  he 
is  himself  to  derive  benefit,  as  a  being  holding  a  place 
m  that  system  of  things  whicli  these  feelings  are  in- 
tended to  keep  together  in  harmony  and  order.  In 
regard  to  the  great  principles  of  veracity  and  justice, 
every  one  perceives  this  to  be  true.  In  all  mercantile 
transactions,  for  example,  a  character  for  high  hoi>or 
and  integrity  leads  not  only  to  respect,  but  to  that 
confidence  which  is  closely  connected  with  prosperity. 
The^e  qualities,  indeed,  are  as  essential  to  a  man's  own 
interest  as  they  are  to  his  duty  to  other  men  ;  and  if  he 
does  gam  an  advantage  by  fraud  and  deceit,  it  is  onl\ 


To  what  part  of  the  animal  system  are  they  compared  ?     Example.     How 

IS  a  violation  of  these  feelings  to  lie  regarded  iii  a  moral  point  of  view  ?    • 

the  performance  of  them  ?     Example  in  the  case  of  jnstice. 


SEC.   II.]    MORAL  APPROBATION  DUE  TO  THEM.        109 

when  he  escapes  detection,  that  is,  while  he  preserves 
the  reputation  of  the  very  quaUties  which  he  has  vio- 
lated. But  this  truth  apphes  equaUy  to  the  afFectious 
more  strictly  benevolent.  The  man  who  lives  in  tho 
habitual  exercise  of  a  cold  and  barren  selfishness,  and 
seeks  only  his  own  gratification  or  interest,  has  indeed, 
in  some  sense,  his  punishment  in  the  contempt  and 
aversion  with  which  he  is  viewed  by  his  fellow-men. 
Much  more  than  this,  however,  attaches  to  such  a 
character ;  he  has  violated  the  principles  given  him 
for  his  guidance  in  the  social  system ;  he  has  fallen 
from  his  sound  condition  as  a  moral  being ;  and  incurs 
actual  guilt  in  the  eye  of  a  righteous  governor,  whose 
will  the  order  of  this  lower  world  is  intended  to  obey. 
But  it  by  no  means  follows,  that  the  man,  who  per- 
forms in  a  certain  manner  the  relations  of  justice, 
friendship,  and  compassion,  is  thereby  entitled  to  claim 
merit  in  the  view  of  the  Almighty  Governor  of  the 
universe.  He  merely  acts  his  part  in  the  present  sys- 
tem of  moral  economy,  for  which  he  has  been  adapted. 
He  is  so  constituted  as  to  derive  satisfaction  from  tlie 
exercise  of  these  affections ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he 
receives  an  appropriate  reward  in  the  reciprocal  exer- 
cise of  similar  affections  by  other  men,  and  in  the  ge- 
neral harmony  of  society  which  results  from  them. 
An  extensive  culture  of  the  affections,  therefore,  may 
go  on  without  the  recognition  of  the  moral  principle, 
or  that  state  of  mind  which  habitually  feels  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Deity,  and  desires  to  have  the  whole  dia- 
ls it  the  same  with  the  benevolent  affections  ?  How  is  the  man,  who 
violates  them  regarded?  Does  it  follow  from  this  that  the  fulfi!me.iu  of 
them  creates  a  claim  to  merit  ?  Can  the  culture  of  the  affections  he  inde- 
pendent of  moral  principle  ? 

10 


110  AFFECTIONS.  [l  ART  I 

racter  in  subjection  to  his  will.     We  are  not  entitled  to  -* 
acknowledge  the  operation  of  that  great  principle,  un-  ( 
less  when  the  affections  are  exercised  in  circumstances 
which  imply  a  strong  and  decided  sacrifice  of  self-love 
to  the  authority  of  God.     This  appears  to  correspond  '" 
with  the  distinction  so  strikingly  stated  in  the  sacred 
writings — "  If  ye   love   them  which   love   you.   what 
reward    have   ye  ?    do   not   even   the    publicans   the 
same?" — "I  say  unto  you,  love  your  enemies,  bless 
them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate  you, 
pray  for  them  which  despitefully  use  you  and  perse- 
cute you." 

On  this  branch  of  the  subject  it  is  also  to  be  ob- 
served, that  there  is  a  kind  of  compensating  power 
among  the  affections  themselves,  by  which,  in  the 
intercourse  of  men,  they  act  as  checks  upon  each 
other.  Thus  resentment  acts  as  a  check  upon  injus- 
tice; and  the  dread  of  exciting  anger  in  others  has 
probably  an  influence,  in  preserving  the  peace  and 
harmonies  of  society,  which  we  often  ascribe  to  a 
higher  principle.  In  regard  to  the  affections  more 
strictly  benevolent,  these  are  also  influenced,  in  a 
similar  manner,  by  the  feeling  of  disapprobation  which 
attends  any  remarkable  departure  from  their  require- 
ments. When  we  keep  in  mind,  along  with  this  con- 
sideration, the  manner  in  which  all  men  are  influ- 
enced, in  one  degree  or  another,  by  the  love  of  appro- 
bation or  regard  to  character,  we  perceive  in  the  moral 
system  a  beautiful  principle  of  compensation,  tending 

Scripture  passages  quoted  in  tliis  connection  ?  Compensatiiiir  powei 
among  the  affections  ?  Examples  ?  Smiilar  influence  exerted  uptm  th^ 
benevolent  affections. 


SEC    n.]  DUE    REGULATION    OF    THEM.  Ill 

to  promote  in  it  a  certain  degree  of  harmony.  Tiiis  is 
remarkably  illustrated,  for  example,  in  the  general 
feelmg  of  disapprobation  which  is  attached  to  ingrati- 
tude, and  to  violation  of  filial  affection  or  parental 
duty,  and  even  to  any  marked  neglect  of  the  common 
calls  of  humanity.  Along  with  this  we  are  also  to 
keep  in  mind,  that  a  man  is  universally  considered  as 
in  the  lowest  state  of  human  nature,  who,  in  these 
respects,  has  become  regardless  of  character, — that  is, 
of  the  estimation  with  which  his  conduct  is  viewed  by 
his  fellow-men. 

In  regard  to  both  the  affections  and  the  desires,  v/e 
are  farther  to  remember  that  deep  and  extensive  influ- 
ence, upon  the  happiness  of  the  individual  himself 
which  results  from  a  due  regulation  of  these  feelings ; 
the  pure  mental  enjoyment  of  him  whose  affections 
are  under  sound  regulation,  and  whose  desires  are 
habitually  directed  to  those  objects  which  are  in  the 
highest  degTce  worthy  of  being  sought  after.  This 
mental  tranquillity  is  also  represented  to  us,  in  a  very 
striking  manner,  by  the  influence  of  those  dispositions 
which  we  usually  refer  to  the  head  of  Temper.  What 
a  constant  source  of  pure  enjoyment  is  a  meek  and 
placid  spirit,  the  desires  of  which  are  moderate  and 
under  due  regulation,  which  puts  upon  every  thing  the 
best  construction  it  will  admit  of,  is  slow  to  take 
offence,  seeks  no  distinction,  but  views  itself  with 
humility,  and  others  with  candor,  benevolence,  and 
indulgence.  Such  a  disposition  makes  the  man  happy 
in  himself,  and  a  source  of  happiness  and  peace  to  all 

Remarkable  illustration  of  this.     Effects  of  a  due  regulation  of  the  affee 
lions  on  the  happiness.     Good  temper.     Description  and  effects  of  it  ? 


112  AFFECTIONS.  [PART  I.  ' 

around  him.  On  the  other  hand,  what  an  unceasing: 
source  of  mental  disquiet  and  turbulence  is  the  oppo- 
site disposition, — ^jealous,  envious,  and  censorious, — , 
ready  to  take  offence  at  trifles,  and  often  to  construe ' 
incidental  occurrences  into  intended  and  premeditated 
insults, — prone  to  put  unfavorable  constructions  upon 
the  conduct  of  others,  and  thus  continually  to  surround , 
itself  with  imaginary  enemies,  and  imaginary  neglects' 
and  injuries.  Such  «  ternper  is  a  continual  torment  to 
the  individual  himself.,  and  the  cause  of  disputes  and 
jealousies  among  those  with  whom  he  is  connected. 
We  cannot  fail,  also,  to  perceive  that  the  man  of  ill- 
regulated  passions  injures  his  own  true  interest  and 
happiness,  as  much  as  he  violates  his  duty  to  others ; 
and  that  his  course  of  life  is  often  productive  of  degra- 
dation, disease,  and  wretchedness.  In  all  this  we  see 
a  beautiful  example  of  the  wise  arrangements  of  the 
Creator,  who,  in  the  structure  of  our  moral  nature,  has 
connected  our  own  peace  and  happiness  with  a  state 
of  feeling  calculated  to  promote  the  happiness  and 
peace  of  all  around  us.  We  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to 
conclude  what  a  different  scene  the  world  would  pre- 
sent, if  such  feelings  were  universally  cultivated  ;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  must  observe  how  much  of  the 
actual  misery  that  exists  in  the  world  arises  from  de- 
rangement of  moral  feeling,  and  the  various  conse- 
quences which  result  from  it  both  to  individuals  and 
commimitics.  We  find  also,  by  innumerable  exam- 
ples, the  remarkable  influence  produced  by  a  due  cul- 
tivation of  these  feelings,  in  alleviating,  both  in  onr- 


Bad  temper.     Its   nature  and  cfTects  ?     Effects  upon  the  charactei  and 
happiness  of  the  individual.     Reflections  on  this  subject. 


SEC.  II.]  DUE    REGULATION    OF    THEM.  113 

selves  and  others,  the  physical  evils  which  are  insepa- 
rable from  the  present  state.  It  is  farther  to  be  re- 
marked,  as  a  fact  worthy  of  the  deepest  attention, 
that  the  only  distinct  information  conveyed  to  us  in 
Scripture,  respecting  the  happiness  of  the  righteous  in  a 
future  state,  is,  that  it  will  consist  chiefly  in  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  divine  character,  and  a  conformity 
of  the  soul  to  the  moral  perfections  of  the  Deity.  "  It 
doth  not  yet  appear,"  says  the  sacred  writer,  "  whal 
we  shall  be ;  but  we  know  that  when  he  shall  appear, 
we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is." 

In  concluding  the  whole  subject  of  the  affections,  I 
have  only  farther  to  remark,  that  the  regulated  state 
of  the  moral  feelings,  which  has  been  the  subject  of  the 
preceding  observations,  seems  to  correspond  with  the 
quality  so  emphatically  described  in  the  sacred  writ- 
ings under  the  name  of  charity.  It  is  there  uniformly 
represented  as  the  great  test  of  the  moral  condition  ; 
and  we  find  exposed,  in  the  most  striking  manner,  the 
worthlessness  of  all  endowments  which  are  not  accom- 
panied by  this  regulation  of  the  whole  character.  We 
cannot,  therefore,  conclude  this  subject  in  a  more  ap- 
propriate manner,  than  by  a  passage  in  which,  by  a 
few  most  powerful  expressions,  a  code  of  ethical  sci- 
ence is  laid  before  us  with  a  clearness  and  a  force, 
which  put  to  nought  all  human  composition  : — 
"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  an- 
gels, and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  soundins 
brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.  And  though  I  have  the 
gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  a!i 

Scripture  testimony.  Concluding  remarks.  The  author's  opinion  of  Uk 
passage  quoted  from  Paul. 

10^ 


114  AFFECTIONS.  [PAIIT  I. 

knowledge ;  and  though  I  have  all  faith,  so  that  I 
could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am 
nothing.  And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed 
the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned, 
and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.  Charity 
suffereth  long,  and  is  kind  ;  charity  envieth  not ;  cha- 
rity vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not 
behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  is  not 
easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil ;  rejoiceth  not  in 
iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth  ;  beareth  all  things, 
believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  cndureth  all 
things.  Charity  never  faileth :  but  whether  there  be 
prophecies,  they  shall  fail ;  whether  there  be  tongues, 
they  shall  cease ;  whether  there  be  knowledge,  it  shall 
vanish  away.  For  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy 
in  part.  But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  then 
that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away.  When  I 
was  a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child, 
I  thought  as  a  child :  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put 
away  childish  things.  For  now  we  see  through  a 
glass,  darkly ;  but  then  face  to  face :  now  I  know  in 
part ;  but  then  shall  1  know  even  as  also  I  am  known. 
And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity,  these  three, 
but  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity." 

Repeat  the  passage.     Meaning  of  the  word  charity. 


8EC.ni.]  SELF-LOVF.  115 


SECTIOiV     III. 

SELF-LOVE. 

There  has  been  some  dispute  respecting  the  term 
Self-love,  both  as  to  its  general  propriety,  and  as  to  the 
mental  feelings  which  ought  to  be  referred  to  it.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  there  is,  in  our  constitution,  a 
principle  or  propensity  which  leads  us  to  study  our 
own  interest,  gratification,  and  comfort;  and  that,  in 
many  instances,  it  becomes  the  ruling  principle  of  the 
character.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  I  use  the  term  self- 
love,  without  entering  into  any  discussion  regarding 
the  strict  logical  propriety  of  it.  Like  the  other  mental 
feelings,  it  is  to  be  considered  as  part  of  our  moral 
constitution,  and  calculated  to  answer  important  pur- 
poses, provided  it  be  kept  in  its  proper  place,  and  do 
not  encroach  upon  the  duties  and  affections  which  v/e 
owe  to  other  men.  When  thus  regulated,  it  constitutes 
prudence,  or  a  just  regard  to  our  own  interest,  safety, 
and  happiness ;  when  it  becomes  morbid  in  its  exer- 
cise, it  degenerates  into  selfishness. 

A  sound  and  rational  self-love  ought  to  lead  us  to 
seek  our  own  true  happiness,  and  should  prove  a  check 
upon  those  appetites  and  passions  which  interfere  with 

What  two  questions  have  arisen  in  respect  to  self-love  ?  Nature  of  the 
principle.  Does  the  author  express  any  opinion  in  regard  to  the  logical 
propriety  of  the  term  ?  How  is  this  principle  to  be  regarded  in  a  moral 
point  of  view?  What  good  trait  of  character  results  from  it  when  well 
regulated  ?     What  bad  one  when  it  is  excessive  ? 


116  SELF-LOVE.  [I'ART    . 

tins ;  for  many  of  them,  it  must  be  allowed,  may  be  i 
not  less  adverse  to  our  own  real  interest  and  comfort, 
than  they  are  to  our  duty  to  other  men.  It  sliould 
lead  us,  therefore,  to  avoid  every  thing,  not  only  that 
is  opposed  to  our  interest,  but  that  is  calculated  to 
impair  our  peace  of  mind,  and  that  harmony  of  the 
moral  feelings  without  which  there  can  be  no  real 
happiness.  This  includes  a  due  regulation  of  the 
desires,  and  a  due  exercise  of  the  affections,  as  a  moral 
condition  which  promotes  our  own  welfare  and  com- 
fort. Self-love,  viewed  in  this  manner,  appears  to  be 
placed  as  a  regulating  principle  among  the  other 
powers,  much  inferior  indeed  to  the  great  principle  of 
conscience,  so  far  as  regards  the  moral  condition  of  the 
individual,  but  calculated  to  answer  important  pur- 
poses in  promoting  the  harmonies  of  society.  The 
impression,  on  which  its  influence  rests,  appears  to  be 
simpl}  the  comfort  and  satisfaction  which  arise  to  our- 
selves from  a  certain  regulation  of  the  desires,  and  a 
certain  exercise  of  the  aflections,  while  feehngs  of  an 
opposite  kind  follow  a  different  conduct.  These  sources 
of  satisfaction  are  manifold.  We  may  reckon  among 
them  the  pleasure  attached  to  the  exercise  of  the  affec- 
tions themselves,  a  feature  of  our  moral  constitution 
of  the  most  interesting  kind, — the  true  mental  peace 
and  enjoyment  which  spring  from  benevolence,  friend- 
ship, meekness,  forgiveness,  and  the  whole  train  of  the 
kindly  feelings, — the  gratitude  of  those  who  have  expe- 
rienced the  effects  of  our  kindness, — the  respect  and 

Proper  influence  ol  self-love?  Nnturo  and  province  of  self-love?  Its 
elTcct  upon  the  desires?  Its  power  and  influence  as  a  rcjjulator  compared 
with  conscience.  Sources  of  satisfaction  which  arise  from  the  due  roguliiiioo  i^ 
oJthe  desires? 


SEC.  Til.]  SELF-LOVE.  117 

approbation  of  those  whose  esteem  we  feel  to  be  vahi- 
able, — and  the  return  of  similar  affections  and  good 
otiices  from  other  men.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have 
to  keep  in  mind  the  mental  agony  and  distraction 
wiiich  arise  from  jealousy,  envy,  hatred,  and  resent- 
ment,— the  sense  of  shame  and  disgrace  which  follow 
a  certain  line  of  conduct, — and  the  distress  which 
often  arises  purely  from  the  contempt  and  disapproba- 
tion of  our  fellow-men.  "  Disgrace,"  says  Butler,  "  is 
as  much  avoided  as  bodily  pain;"  we  may  safely  say 
that  it  is  much  more  avoided,  and  that  it  inflicts  a 
suffering  of  a  much  more  severe  and  permanent  nature. 
It  mast  likewise  accord  with  the  observation  of  every 
one,  that  among  the  circumstances,  which  most  fre- 
quehtly  injure  our  peace  and  impair  our  comfort,  are 
those  which  ruffle  the  mind  by  mortifying  our  self- 
love.  There  is  also  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  and 
self-reproach  which  follows  any  neglect  of  a  due  exer- 
cise of  the  nffoctions,  and  which,  in  a  well-regulated 
mind,  disturbs  the  mental  tranquillity  fully  as  much 
as  the  disapprobation  of  other  men.  It  is  farther  evi- 
dent, that  the  man  of  ungoverned  passions,  and  ill- 
regulated  affections,  impairs  his  own  peace  and  happi- 
ness as  much  as  he  violates  his  duties  to  others,  for  his 
course  of  life  is  productive,  not  only  of  degradation  in 
the  eyes  of  his  fellow-men,  but  often  of  mental  anguish, 
misery,  disease,  and  premature  death.  There  is  not, 
perhaps,  a  state  of  more  intense  suffering,  than  v/hen 
the  depraved  heart,  disappointed  of  those  gratifications 

Sources  of  pain  from  allowing  the  desires  to  become  inordinate  ?  Butler's 
remark.  Double  injury  done  by  migoverned  passions.  A  condition  of  in- 
tense suffenng. 


118  SELF-LOVE.  [parti. 

to  which  it  is  enslaved,  and  shut  up  from  the  excite- 
ments by  which  it  seeks  to  escape  from  the  horrors 
of  reflection,  is  thrown  back  upon  itself  to  be  its  own 
tormentor.  To  run  the  risk  of  such  consequences,' 
for  the  gratification  of  a  present  appetite  or  passion,  is 
clearly  opposed  to  the  dictates  of  a  sound  self-love,  as 
has  been  distinctly  shown  by  bishop  Butler ;  and  when, 
in  such  a  case,  self-love  prevails  over  an  appetite  or 
passion,  we  perceive  it  operating  as  a  regulating  prin- 
ciple in  the  moral  system.  It  does  so,  indeed,  merely 
by  the  impression,  that  a  certain  regulation  of  the 
moral  feelings  is  conducive  to  our  own  true  and  pre- 
sent happiness ;  and  thus  shows  a  wonderful  power 
of  compensation  among  these  feelings,  referable  entirely 
to  this  source.  But  it  is  quite  distinct  from  the  great 
principle  of  conscience,  which  directs  us  to  a  certain 
Hne  of  conduct  on  the  pure  and  high  principle  of  moral 
duty,  apart  from  all  considerations  of  a  personal  nature ; 
which  leads  a  man  to  act  upon  nobler  motives  than 
those  which  result  from  the  most  refined  self-love,  and 
calls  for  the  mortification  of  all  personal  feelings,  when 
these  interfere,  in  the  smallest  degree,  with  the  require- 
ments of  duty.  This  distinction  I  conceive  to  be  of  the 
utmost  practical  importance ;  as  it  shows  a  principle 
of  regulation  among  the  moral  feelings  themselves,  by 
which  a  certain  exercise  of  the  affections  is  carried  on 
in  a  manner,  which  contributes  in  a  high  degree  to  the 
harmonics  of  society,  but  which  does  not  convey  any 
impression  of  moral  approbation  or  merit  that  can  be 
applied  to  the  agent. 

What  then  docs  self-love  require  of  us  in  respect  to  the  appetites  and 
passions  ?  Is  the  principle  of  conscience,  or  not,  entirely  distinct  from  this  i 
NatiMv  of  the  influence  of  conscience. 


8EC.   111.]  SELF-LOVE.  119 

Self-love,  then,  leads  us  to  consult  our  own  feeiings, 
and  to  seek  directly  our  own  interest  and  happiness. 
Th(  affections  lead  us  to  allow  for  the  feelings,  and 
consider  the  advantage  and  comfort,  of  other  men  ; 
and  a  certain  balance  between  these  principles  is  es- 
sential to  the  healthy  state  of  the  moral  being.  It  is 
seldom  that  the  affections  are  likely  to  acquire  an  un- 
due influence,  but  there  is  great  danger  of  self-love 
degenerating  into  selfishness,  which  interferes  with  the 
duties  we  owe  to  others.  We  have  formerly  alluded 
to  the  means,  referable  to  the  due  exercise  of  the  affec- 
tions, and  even  to  a  sound  and  rational  self-love,  by 
which  this  should  be  in  part  prevented.  When  these 
are  not  sufficient,  the  appeal  is  to  conscience ;  or  a 
distinct  reference  of  individual  cases  is  made  to  the 
great  principle  of  moral  rectitude.  We  find,  accord- 
ingly, this  principle  called  into  action,  when  a  man 
has  become  sensible  of  important  defects  in  his  moral 
habits.  Thus,  we  may  see  a  man,  who  has  long  given 
way  to  a  peevish  or  irascible  disposition,  that  is,  to 
selfish  acting  upon  his  own  feelings,  without  due  re- 
gard to  the  feelings  of  others,  setting  himself  to  contend 
with  this  propensity  upon  the  score  of  moral  duty; 
while  another,  of  a  placid  disposition,  has  no  need  of 
bringing  the  principle  into  action  for  such  a  purpose. 
In  the  same  manner,  a  person  who  has  indulged  a  cold, 
contracted  selfishness  may,  under  the  influence  of  the 
same  great  principle,  perform  deeds  of  benevolence 
and  kindness.    Thus  we  perceive  that  the  moral  prin- 


Comparative  influence  of  self-love  and  of  the  affections.  Which  is  most 
in  danger  of  becoming  excessive?  When  and  how  is  it  necessary  to  cal? 
Mi  tho  aid  of  conscience  ?     Illustration. 


120  SELF-LOVE.  [part  L 

ciple  or  sense  of  duty,  when  it  is  made  the  regulating 
motive  of  action,  is  calculated  to  control  self-love,  and 
preserve  the  proper  harmony  between  it  and  the  exer- 
cise of  the  affections. 

When  the  principle  of  self-love  becomes  deranged 
in  its  exercise  and  objects,  it  leads  to  those  habits  by 
which  a  man  seeks  his  own  gratification,  in  a  way 
which  interferes  with  his  duties  to  other  men.  This 
he  may  do  by  an  undue  pursuit  of  any  of  the  desires, 
whether  avarice,  ambition,  love  of  eminence,  or  love 
of  fame ;  and  the  desire  of  knowledge  itself  may  be  so 
indulged  as  to  assume  the  same  character.  Even 
deeds  of  benevolence  and  kindness  may  be  performed 
on  this  principle, — as  when  a  man,  by  such  actions, 
seeks  only  the  applause  of  the  public,  or  the  approba- 
tion of  certain  individuals,  from  whom,  it  may  be,  he 
expects  to  derive  advantage.  Hence  the  value  we 
attach,  in  the  exercise  of  all  the  affections,  to  what  we 
call  disinterested  conduct ;  to  him  who  does  good  by 
stealth,  or  who  performs  acts  of  exalted  justice,  gene- 
rosity, or  forbearance,  under  circumstances  which  ex- 
clude every  idea  of  a  selfish  motive,  or  when  self- 
interest  and  personal  feeling  are  strongly  and  obviously 
opposed  to  them.  Such  conduct  commands  the  cordial 
approbation  of  all  classes  of  men ;  and  it  is  striking  to 
remark  how,  in  the  highest  conception  of  such  a  cha- 
racter that  fancy  can  delineate,  we  are  met  by  the 
sublime  morality  of  the  sacred  writings,  impressed, 
upon  us  by  the  purest  of  all  motives,  the  imitation  of 

Effect  of  self-love  when  deranged  in  its  operations?  Desires  most  com- 
monly pursued  in  an  undue  manner?  Are  deeds  of  lienevolence  and  kind- 
ness ever  performed  from  an  impulse  of  solf-love?  How?  Disinterested 
coivdnrt?     Its  moral  character  and  oslimation  among  men. 


SEC.  III. J  SELF-LOVE,  121 

him  who  is  the  giver  of  all  good ; — ''  love  your  ene- 
mies ;  bless  them  that  curse  you ;  do  good  to  them  that 
hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  which  despitefully  use 
you  and  persecute  you ;  that  ye  may  be  the  children 
of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  :  for  he  maketh  his 
sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth 
rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust." — "  If  any  man 
will  be  my  disciple,"  says  the  same  great  author  of 
Christianity,  "let  him  deny  himself" 

Scripture  orecepts  on  this  subject. 
11 


PART   IL 


OF  THE  WILL. 


Will  or  Simple  Volition  is  that  state  of  mind  which 
immediately  precedes  action; — we  will  a  certain  act;^ 
and  the  act  follows,  unless  it  be  prevented  cither  by. 
external  restraint,  or  by  physical  inability  to  perform  it. 

The  actions  thus  produced  arise  out  of  the  menta.. 
emotions  formerly  treated  of, — the  desires,  and  the- 
atTections.  We  desire  an  object,  or  we  experience  one 
of  the  affections: — the  next  mental  act,  according  to 
the  regular  course  of  a  reflecting  mind,  is  proposing  to  ' 
ourselves  the  question, — shall  we  gratify  the  desire, — 
shall  we  exercise  the  affection?  Then  follows  the- 
process  of  considering  or  deliberating. — We  perceive,' 
perhaps,  a  variety  of  considerations  or  inducements,- 
some  of  which  are  in  favor  of  gratifying  the  desire  or 
exercising  the  affection,  others  opposed  to  it.  Wei 
therefore  proceed  to  weigh  the  relative  force  of  these ' 
opposing  motives,  with  the  view  of  determining  whichi 

Author's  definition  of  Will?    Connection  between  a  volition  and  uctioDli 
Mental  process  from  the  desire  to  the  act. 


PART  II. J  UNIFORMITY    OF    MORAL    CAUSES.  123 

of  them  we  sliall  allow  to  regulate  our  decision.  We, 
at  length,  make  up  our  mind  on  this,  and  resolve,  we 
shall  suppose,  to  do  the  act ;  this  is  followed  by  the 
mental  condition  of  willing  or  simple  volition. 

In  the  chain  of  mental  operations  which,  in  such  a 
case,  intervene  between  the  desire  and  the  volition,  a 
class  of  agents  is  brought  into  view  which  act  upon 
the  mind  as  moral  causes  of  its  volitions;  these  are 
usually  called  motives,  or  principles  of  action.  When 
treating  of  this  subject  as  a  branch  of  the  philosophy 
of  the  intellectual  powers,  I  endeavored  to  show  the 
grounds  on  which  we  believe,  that  there  are  facts, 
truths,  motives,  or  moral  causes,  which  have  a  ten- 
dency thus  to  influence  the  determinations  of  the  mind, 
with  a  uniformity  similar  to  that  which  we  observe  in 
the  operation  of  physical  causes.  For  the  due  opera- 
tion of  moral  causes,  indeed,  certain  circumstances  are 
required  in  the  individual  on  whom  they  are  expected 
to  operate,  and,  without  these,  they  may  fail  in  theii 
operation.  It  is  necessary  that  he  should  be  fully  m- 
formed  in  regard  to  them  as  truths  addressed  to  his 
understanding,  that  he  direct  his  attention  to  them 
with  suitable  intensity,  and  exercise  his  reasoning 
powers  upon  their  tendeiLcies,  and  that  he  be  himself  in 
a  certain  healthy  state  of  moral  feeling.  In  all  our  in- 
tercourse with  mankind,  accordingly,  we  proceed  upon 
an  absolute  confidence  in  the  uniformity  of  the  opera- 


Describe  the  steps  in  full.  What  name  is  given  that  class  of  agents 
which  act  upon  the  mind  to  produce  volition  ?  Are  moral  causes,  as  well  as 
physical  causes,  realh'  uniform  in  their  operation?  Are  the}'  apparently  as 
uniform  and  steady  as  physical  causes  ?  What  circumstances  are  essential 
to  their  due  operation  ?  Do  we  confide  in  the  uniformity  of  moral  causes,  in 
•T  vitercourse  with  mankind  ? 


124  THE    WILL.  [part  1  . 

tioii  of  these  causes,  provided  we  are  acquainted  with 
the  moral  condition  of  the  individual.  We  can  foretell, 
for  example,  the  respective  effects  which  a  tale  of  dis^  • 
tress  will  have  upon  a  cold-hearted  miser,  and  a  man 
of  active  benevolence,  with  the  same  confidence  with 
which  we  can  predict  the  different  actions  of  an  acid 
upon  an  alkali  and  upon  a  metal ;  and  there  are  in- 
dividuals in  regard  to  whose  integrity  and  veracity,  in  | 
any  situation  in  which  they  can  be  placed,  we  have  a 
confidence  similar  to  that  with  which  we  rely  on  the 
course  of  nature.  In  this  manner  we  gradually  ac- 
quire, by  experience,  a  knowledge  of  mankind ;  pre- 
cisely as,  by  observation  or  experiment,  we  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  the  operation  of  physical  agents.  Thus 
we  come  to  know  that  one  man  is  absolutely  to  be 
relied  on,  in  regard  to  a  particular  line  of  conduct  in 
given  circumstances;  and  that  another  is  not  to  be 
relied  on,  if  any  thing  should  come  in  the  way,  affect- 
ing his  own  pleasure  or  interest.  In  endeavoring  to 
excite  various  individuals  to  the  same  conduct  in  a 
particular  case,  we  learn,  that,  in  one,  we  have  to 
appeal  only  to  his  sense  of  duty;  in  another,  to  his 
love  of  approbation ;  while,  on  a  third,  nothing  Avill 
make  any  impression  except  what  bears  upon  his  in- 
terest or  his  pleasure.  Again,  when  Ave  find  that,  in  a 
particular  individual,  certain  motives  or  tnUhs  fail  of; 
the  effects  which  we  have  observed  them  to  produce- 
in  others,  Ave  endeavor  to  impress  them  upon  his  mind,L 
and  to  rouse  his  attention  to  their  bearings  and  tenden-i 
cies;  and   this  we  do  from  the  couAqrtion.  that   lliese 


Examples  illustrative  of  tliis.     Consequence  of  this  uniformity  in  respecl 
t'<  our  knowledge  of  mankind.     Examples. 


PART  II.]  PRINCIPLES    WHICH    REGULATE    fT.  125 

trutlis  have  a  certain  uniform  tendency  to  influence 
tlie  volitions  of  a  moral  being,  provided  he  can  be  in- 
duced seriously  to  attend  to  them,  and  provided  he  is 
in  that  moral  condition  which  is  required  for  their 
efficiency. 

In  all  such  cases,  which  are  familiar  to  every  one, 
we  recognise,  therefore,  a  iiniform  relation  between 
ceitain  moral  causes  or  motives,  and  the  determinations 
of  the  human  mind  in  willing  certain  acts.  It  is  no 
objection  to  this,  that  men  act  in  very  different  ways 
with  the  same  motives  before  them ;  for  this  depends 
upon  their  own  moral  condition.  When  treating  of  the 
intellectual  powers,  I  alluded  to  the  metaphysical  con- 
troversies connected  with  this  subject,  and  I  do  not 
mean  to  recur  to  them  here.  Our  present  object  is  en- 
tirely of  a  practical  nature,  namely,  to  investigate  the 
circumstances  which  are  required  for  the  due  operation 
of  motives  or  moral  causes,  and  the  manner  in  which 
the  moral  feelings  may  be  so  deranged,  that  these  fail 
of  producing  their  natural  or  proper  effects. 

Let  us,  then,  suppose  an  individual  deliberating  in 
regard  to  the  line  of  conduct  he  shall  pursue  in  a  par- 
ticular case  ;  the  circumstances  or  impressions  which 
are  calculated  to  act  upon  him  as  moral  causes  in  de- 
termining his  volition,  that  is,  in  deciding  his  conduct, 
are  chiefly  the  following.  (1.)  Self-love,  which 
prompts  him  to  seek  his  own  ease,  interest,  or  gratifi- 
cation.   (2.)  Certain  affections  which  lead  him  to  take 

Apparent  objection.  Is  this  subject  well  settled  among  metaph}'^sician si 
Author's  object  in  bringing  forward  the  subject  here.  Case  supposed. 
Moral  causes  operating  upon  a  man,  to  produce  volitior  —how  many  enume 
rated?    What  are  they ? 

11# 


126  THE    WILL.  [part  It 

into  view  duties  which  he  owes  to  other  men ;  such  as 
justice,  benevolence,  &c.     (3.)  The  impression  of  mo-    ' 
ral  rectitude  or  moral  responsibility.     This  is  derived   ^ 
from  the  great  principle  of  conscience,  aided  by  the    ' 
truths  of  religious  belief.     (4.)  We  ought  to  add  rea- 
son or  judgment,  which  leads  him  to  perceive  certain  ,' 
tendencies  of  actions,  apart  from  their  moral  aspect.  } 
Now,  in   deciding  on   his  conduct  in  any  particular  ^ 
ir^-tance,  one  man  makes  every  thing  bend  to  his  own  " 
mterest  or  pleasure,  with  little  regard  to  the  interests  ' 
of  others ;  unless  in  so  far  as  the  absolute  requirements  ; 
of  justice  are  concerned,  the   infringement  of  which 
might  expose  him  to  loss  of  reputation,  or  even  to  punish- 
ment.   Another  surrenders  a  certain  portion  of  his  per- 
sonal gratification  to  the  advantage  or  comfort  of  others, 
purely  as  an  exercise  of  feeling  from  which  he  expe*  -^ 
ricnces  satisfaction;  influenced,  also,  probably,  in  some 
measure,  by  a  regard  to  character,  or  the  love  of  appro- 
bation.    In  such  a  man,  it  becomes,  in  individual  in- 
stances, a  matter  of  calculation,  what  degree  of  the 
sacrifice  of  personal  ease,  interest,  or  feeling,  is  to  be 
made  to  this  principle  of  action.     A  third  contemplates  i 
the  case  purely  as  one  of  duty  or  moral  responsibility,  /' 
and  acts  upon  this  principle,  though  it  may  involve  a  1 1 
degree  of  personal  exertion,  or  a  sacrifice  of  personal  I 
feeling,  in  itself  disagreeable  or  even  injurious  to  him;  ; 
that  is,  though  the  strongest  personal  motives  would  I 
lead  to  a  difl^crcnt  conduct.     Let  the  case,  again,  refer  : 
to  one  of  the  desires,  bearing  no  immediate  relation  to  i 
the  interests  of  other  men.    One  man  goes  directly  into  > 

Do  all  decide  alike  in  respect  to  these  claims  ?    First  kind  of  decision  v 
mentioned'.'    Second  kind  ?    Third  kind? 


PART    II.]  PRINCIPLES  WHICH  REGULATE  IT.  127 

the  gratification  of  it.  without  any  consideration.  Ano- 
ther, who  feels  the  same  desire,  considers  the  influence 
which  the  indulgence  would  be  likely  to  have  on  his 
health,  interest,  or  reputation.  This  maybe  considered 
as  simply  an  exercise  of  judgment,  combined  with  a 
certain  operation  of  self-love.  A  third  views  the  aspect 
of  the  deed  purely  as  a  question  of  moral  responsibility, 
and,  if  he  sees  cause,  decides  against  it  on  this  ground 
alone :  though  he  should  perceive  that  it  might  be 
gratified  without  any  danger  to  his  health,  interest,  or 
reputation,  or  even  that  it  might  contribute  to  his  ad- 
vantage. 

We  have  thus  presented  to  us  three  characters  :  one 
who  acts  upon  the  high  and  pure  ground  of  moral 
principle :  one  who  acts  from  motives  of  a  more  con- 
tracted and  personal  nature,  though,  in  certain  instances, 
his  conduct  may  be  the  same;  and  one  who  goes 
straight  forward  to  the  gratification  of  a  ruling  desire 
or  governing  propensity,  without  attending  to  motives 
of  either  class.  The  first  is  a  uniform  character,  on 
"vhose  conduct  we  depend  in  any  given  circumstances, 
with  a  confidence  similar  to  that  with  which  we  rely 
on  the  operation  of  physical  agents.  For  we  know  the 
uniform  tendencies  of  the  motives  or  moral  causes  by 
which  he  is  habitually  influenced,  and  we  know  his 
moral  temperament.  We  have  nearly  the  same  kind 
of  knowledge  respecting  him,  which  we  have  of  the 
tendencies  of  chemical  agents  towards  each  other,  and 
which  enables  us  with    pertect  confidence  to  foretell 

Various  decisions  in  respect  to  the  gratification  of  the  desires?  The 
three  characters  thus  presented  ?  C  mfidence  to  be  placed  in  the  first ;  and 
vhy? 


128  THE    WILL.  [part  II. 

their  actions.     The  third  has  also  a  uniformity  of  con-   . 
duct,  though  of  a  very  different  kind.     We  know,  like-  | 
wise,  his  moral  condition,  and,  to  predict  his  conduct,  f 
we  require  only  to  learn  the  particular  inducements  or 
temptations  to  which  he  is  exposed  in  a  given  instance.  ■ 
The  second  we  cannot  rely  or  calculate  upon ;   for  we  f 
have  not  the  means  of  tracing  the  conflicting  views  by  j 
which  he  may  be  influenced  in  a  particular  case,  or  the  i 
principle  on  which  he  may  ultimately  decide  between  / 
them.     They  involve  the  strength  of  the  inclination, 
and  the  degree  of  power  exerted  over  it  by  the  class  ^ 
of  personal  or  selfish  motives  by  which  he  is  influenced.  ^ 
In  regard  to  various  instances  of  ill-regulated  desire,  ; 
we  must  add  his  hope  of  evading  detection,  as  on  this  j 
depends,  in  a  great  measure,  the  kind  of  evils  dreaded  ) 
by  him  in  reference  to  the  indulgence.     These  taken 
together   imply   a  complicated   moral   calculation,  of  • 
which  it  is   impossible  for  another  man  to  trace  the 
result. 

There  cannot  be  an  inquiry  of  more  intense  interest  ; 
than  to  investigate  the  causes  in  which  originate  the  m 
differences  among  these  three  characters;  or,  in  other 
words,  the  principles  on  which  we  can   explain  the  j 
fact,  that  the  will  of  individuals  may  be  influenced  so  j 
difforcutly  with  the  same  motives  before  them.     These 
appear  to  be  referable  to  three  heads, — Knowledge, — 
Attention, — and  Moral  Habits. 

I.  A  primary  and  essential  element,  in  the  due  regii*-; 

Is  the  conduct  of  the  third  uniform  or  noi  ?  How  ?  Degree  of  confidence -^ 
lo  he  placed  in  the  second?  V.irious  influences  actin?  upon  such  a  mind  ? 
Tiiteresting  inquirj' here  proposed  ?  Sources  of  influence  in  respect  to  the^^ 
formation  of  character  ? 


PART  II.J  INFLUENCE    OF  KNOWLEDGE.  129 

lation  of  the  will,  is  a  correct  knowledge  of  the  truths 
and  motives  which  tend  to  influence  its  determinations. 
The  highest  class  of  these  comprehends  the  truths  of 
religious  belief, — a  series  of  moral  causes,  the  tendencies 
of  which  are  of  the  most  important  kind,  and  calculated 
to  exert  a  uniform  power  over  every  man  who  surren- 
ders himself  to  their  guidance.  For  this  purpose,  a 
correct  knowledge  of  them  is  required ;  and,  to  all  who 
have  this  knowledge  within  their  reach,  the  careful 
acquisition  involves  a  point  of  the  deepest  moral  respon- 
sibility. The  sacred  writers  speak  in  the  strongest 
terms  of  the  guilt  attached  to  voluntary  ignorance  : 
and  this  must  be  obvious  to  every  one  who  considers 
the  clearness  with  which  the  highest  truths  are  dis- 
closed, and  the  incontrovertible  evidence  by  which 
they  are  supported.  This  applies  equally  to  the  prin- 
ciples both  of  natural  and  of  revealed  religion.  The 
important  truths  of  natural  religion  are  partly  matters 
of  the  most  simple  induction  from  the  phenomena  of 
nature  which  are  continually  before  us;  and  partly 
impressed  upon  our  own  moral  constitution  in  the 
clearest  and  most  forcible  manner.  From  the  planet 
revolving  in  its  appointed  orbit,  to  the  economy  of  the 
insect  on  which  we  tread,  all  nature  demonstrates,  with 
a  power  which  we  cannot  put  away  from  us,  the  great 
incomprehensible  One,  a  being  of  boundless  perfections 
and  infinite  wisdom.  In  regard  to  his  moral  attributes, 
also,  he  has  not  left  himself  without  a  witness;  for  a 
sense  of  these  he  has  impressed  upon  us  in  the  clearest 

What  kind  of  knowledge  is  necessary  for  a  due  regulation  of  the  will  7 
When  is  ignorance  guilty  7  Are  tlie  great  truths  of  religion  clearly  or  v>l>- 
scuisly  presented  to  men  7     Evidence  oi  the  bemg  of  God, 


130  THE    WILL.  [part  II 

manner  in  that  wondrous  part  of  our  constitution,  the 
moral  principle  or  conscience.  From  these  two  sources 
may  be  derived  a  knowledge  of  the  character  of  the 
Deity,  and  of  our  relation  to  him  as  moral  beings ;  and 
the  man  is  left  entirely  without  excuse  who  fails  to 
direct  to  them  his  most  earnest  attention,  and  to  make 
the  impressions  derived  from  them  the  habitual  rule 
of  his  volitions,  and  the  guide  of  his  whole  character. 
"  He  hath  the  rule  of  right  within,"  says  Butler  :  •"all 
that  is  wanting  is,  that  he  honestly  attend  to  it." 

Similar  observations  apply  with  equal  or  greater 
force  to  the  truths  of  revealed  religion.  These  are 
supported  by  a  weight  of  miraculous  evidence,  and  are 
transmitted  to  us  by  a  chain  of  testimony,  carrying 
absolute  conviction  to  the  mind  of  every  candid  in- 
quirer. They  are  farther  confirmed  by  a  probability, 
and  a  force  of  internal  evidence,  which  fix  themselves 
upon  the  moral  feelings  of  every  sound  understanding 
with  a  power  which  is  irresistible.  The  whole  is  ad- 
dressed to  us  as  rational  beings ;  it  is  pressed  upon  our 
attention  as  creatures  destined  for  another  state  of  ex- 
istence ;  and  the  duty  is  imposed  upon  every  individual 
seriously  to  examine  and  to  consider.  Every  man  is 
in  the  highest  degree  responsible  for  the  care  with 
which  he  has  informed  himself  of  these  evidences,  and  I 
for  the  attention  with  which  he  has  given  to  every 
part  of  them  its  due  weight  in  the  solemn  inquiry. 
He  is  farther  responsible  for  the  influence  of  previously 
formed  prejudice,  or  any  degree  of  that  vitiated  state 
of  his.  moral   feelings,  which    prevents  him  from   ap- 


Kvidence  of  his  moral  allrilmtes.    Degree  of  evidence  fo:  re\  ealed  religion  1 
How  and  why  are  men  responsibl«»  for  their  belief  on  ihest  subjects  ? 


PART  II.]  INFLUENCE    OF    KNOWLEDGE.  13? J 

proaching  the  subject  with  the  simphcity  of  a  miiKl 
which  is  seriously  desirous  of  the  truth.  From  the 
want  of  these  essential  elements  of  character,  it  may 
very  often  happen,  that  a  man  may  fancy  he  has 
formed  his  opinions  after  much  examination,  while  the 
result  of  his  prejudiced  or  frivolous  inquiry  has  been 
oidy  to  fix  him  in  delusion  and  falsehood.  Among  the 
singular  sophistries,  indeed,  by  which  some  men  shut 
their  minds  against  inquiries  of  the  highest  import,  is 
a  kind  of  impression,  not  perhaps  distinctly  avowed  in 
words,  but  clearly  recognised  in  practice,  that  these 
subjects  of  belief  are  in  a  great  measure  matters  of 
opinion,  instead  of  being  felt  to  rest  upon  the  basis 
of  immutable  and  eternal  truth.  Can  any  thing  be 
more  striking  than  the  manner  in  which  a  late  distin- 
guished poet  expresses  himself  on  the  subject  of  a 
future  life, — as  if  this  truth  were  a  mere  opinion  which 
could  be  taken  up  or  laid  down  at  pleasure,  to  suit  the 
taste  of  the  individual  inquirer: — "Of  the  two,  1 
should  think  the  long  sleep  better  than  the  agonized 
vigil.  But  men,  miserable  as  they  are,  cling  so  to  any 
thing  like  life,  that  they  probably  would  prefer  damna- 
tioTi  \o  quiet.  Besides,  they  think  themselves  so  im- 
portant in  the  creation,  that  nothing  less  can  satisfy 
their  pride, — the  insects  V^^  Such  is  the  frivolous 
sophistry  by  which  one,  who  holds  a  high  rank  in  the 
literature  of  his  country,  could  put  away  from  him  the 
most  momentous  inquiry  that  can  engage  the  attention 
of  a  rational  being. 

*  Byron's  Letters,  Moore's  Life,  Vol.  H.  p.  581. 

Common  error  on  this  subject.     Views  of  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life  by 

%  celebrated  \^ei. 


132  THE    WILL.  [part  II. 

II.  Next  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  tlie 
formation  of  opinions,  calculated  to  act  upon  us  as 
moral  beings,  is  the  important  rule  of  habitually  at- 
tending to  them,  so  as  to  bring  their  influence  to  bear 
upon  our  volitions.  He,  who  honestly  attends  to  what 
is  passing  within,  will  perceive  that  this  is  a  voluntary 
exercise  of  his  thinking  and  reasoning  faculties.  When 
a  particular  desire  is  present  to  hrs  mind,  he  has  the 
power  to  act  upon  the  first  impulse,  or  upon  a  very 
partial  and  limited,  perhaps  a  distorted,  view  of  the 
considerations  and  motives  by  which  he  ought  to  be 
influenced;  and  he  has  the  power  to  suspend  acting, 
and  direct  his  attention  deliberately  and  fully  to  the 
facts  and  principles  which  are  calculatbd  to  guide  his 
determination.  This  is  the  first  great  step  in  that  re- 
markable chain  of  sequences  which  belong  to  the  regu- 
lation of  the  will.  It  is  what  every  one  is  conscious 
of;  and,  putting  aside  all  those  metaphysical  subtleties 
in  which  the  subject  has  been  involved,  this  constitutes 
man  a  free  and  responsible  agent.  In  this  important 
process,  the  first  mental  state  is  a  certain  movement 
of  one  of  the  desires  or  one  of  the  atfections ;  to  pre- 
vent circumlocution,  we  may  use  the  term  Inclination 
as  including  both.  The  second  is  a  reference  of  the 
inclination  to  the  moral  causes  or  motives  which  more 
peculiarly  apply  to  it,  especially  the  indications  of  con- 
science, and  the  principles  of  moral  rectitude.  If  these 
be   found  to   harmonize  with  the  inclination,  volition 

Second  source  of  influence  in  the  formation  of  character?  Is  attention  in 
any  degree  a  voluntary  state  of  mind  ?  How?  View  taken  by  the  author 
of  the  power  of  the  attention  in  regulating  the  will  7  What  term  is  used  tv- 
•oclude  the  desires  and  the  atFcctions?  The  two  great  steps  in  the  proo-ss 
'if  moral  action? 


FART  II.]  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  133 

and  action  follow,  with  the  full  concurrence  of  every 
moral  feeling.  If  the  inclination  be  condemned  by 
these,  it  is,  in  a  well-regulated  mind,  instantly  dis- 
missed, and  the  healthy  condition  of  the  moral  being  is 
preserved.  But  this  voluntary  and  most  important 
mental  process  may  be  neglected ;  the  inclination  may 
be  suffered  to  engross  the  mind  and  occupy  fully  the 
attention ;  the  power  may  not  be  exercised  of  direct- 
ing it  to  moral  causes  and  motives,  and  of  comparing 
with  them  the  inclination  which  is  present.  The  con- 
sequence may  be,  that  the  man  runs  heedlessly  into 
volition  and  action,  from  which  the  due  exercise  of 
this  process  of  the  mind  might  have  preserved  him. 

But  a  third  condition  may  take  place  which  presents 
a  subject  of  the  highest  interest.  The  moral  causes 
may  be  so  far  attended  to,  as  to  prevent  the  inclination 
from  being  followed  by  action ;  while  the  inclination 
is  still  cherished,  and  the  mind  is  allowed  to  dwell, 
with  a  certain  feeling  of  regret,  on  the  object  which  it 
had  been  obliged  to  deny  itself  Though  the  actual 
deed  be  thus  prevented,  the  harmony  of  the  moral 
feelings  is  destroyed  ;  and  that  mental  condition  is 
lost  which  is  strictly  to  be  called  purity  of  heart.  For 
this  consists  in  the  desires  and  affections,  as  well  as  the 
conduct,  being  in  strict  subjection  to  the  indications 
of  conscience  and  the  principles  of  moral  rectitude. 
The  inclination,  thus  cherished,  gradually  acquires 
greater  ascendency  over  the  moral  feelings.;  at  each 
succeeding   contest,    it  more  and   more  occupies   the 

Result,  in  a  well-regulated  mind  ?  Process  in  a  mind  not  resrulated  ? 
Third  condition  described.  Consequences?  Effect  on  the  moral  feeiinus'/ 
. on  the  future  character  ? 

12 


134  THE    WILL.  [fart  II. 

mind ;  the  attention  is  less  and  less  directed  to  the 
moral  truths  and  motives  which  are  opposed  to  it ;  the 
inclination  at  length  acquires  the  predominance,  and 
is  followed  by  volition.  This  is  what  we  mean  by  a 
man  being  carried  away  by  passion,  in  opposition  to 
his  moral  conviction ;  for  passion  consists  in  a  desire 
or  an  affection  which  has  been  allowed  to  engross  the 
mind,  until  it  gradually  overpowers  the  moral  causes 
which  are  calculated  to  counteract  its  influence.  Now 
in  the  whole  of  this  course  each  single  movement  of 
the  mind  is  felt  to  be  entirely  voluntary.  From  that 
step,  which  constitutes  the  first  departure  from  moral 
purity,  the  process  consists  in  a  desire  being  cherished 
which  the  moral  feelings  condemn;  while,  at  each 
succeeding  step,  the  influence  of  these  feelings  is  gra- 
dually weakened,  and  finally  destroyed.  Such  is  the 
economy  of  the  human  heart,  and  such  the  chain  of 
sequences  to  be  traced  in  the  moral  history  of  every 
man,  who,  with  a  conviction  upon  his  mind  of  what 
is  right,  has  followed  the  downward  course  which  gradu- 
ally led  him  astray  from  virtue.  When  we  trace  such 
a  process  backwards  in  a  philosophical  poiut  of  view, 
the  question  still  recurs,  what  was  the  first  step,  or 
that  by  which  the  mind  was  led  into  the  course  which 
thus  terminated  in  favor  of  vice.  In  the  wonderful 
chain  of  sequences,  which  has  been  established  in  the 
mental  constitution,  it  would  appear,  that  a  very 
slight  movement  only  is  required  for  deranging  the 
delicate   harmony   which   ought   to   exist  among  the 

Effects  of  this  indulgence  on  the  power  of  the  inclinations  ?  Dominion 
of  the  passions,  what  and  how  acquired  ?  Are  the  movements  of  the  mind 
Toluntary  in  these  moral  processes  ?  Interesting  question  in  relation  to  thii 
process  7 


PART  n.]  INFLUENCE    OF   ATTENTION.  135 

moral  feelings;  but  this  ea:h  individual  feels  to  be 
entirely  voluntary.  It  may  consist  in  a  desire  being 
cherished  which  the  moral  feelings  disapprove ;  and, 
though  the  effect  at  first  may  be  small,  a  morbid  influ- 
ence has  arisen,  which  gains  strength  by  continuance, 
and  at  last  acquires  the  power  of  a  moral  habit.  The 
more  the  desire  is  cherished,  the  less  is  the  attention 
directed  to  the  considerations  or  moral  causes  by 
which  it  might  be  counteracted.  In  this  manner,  ac- 
cording to  the  mental  economy,  these  causes  gradually 
lose  their  power  over  the  volitions  or  determinations 
of  the  mind ;  and,  at  a  certain  period  of  this  progress, 
the  judgment  itself  comes  to  be  changed  respecting  the 
moral  aspect  of  the  deed. 

There  is  still  another  mental  condition  to  be  men- 
tioned in  connection  with  this  subject :  in  which  the 
harmony  of  the  moral  feelings  may  be  destroyed, 
without  the  action  following.  This  takes  place  when 
the  inclination  is  cherished,  as  in  the  former  case,  in 
opposition  to  the  indications  of  conscience ;  while  the 
action  is  opposed  by  some  inferior  motives,  as  a  regard 
to  reputation  or  interest.  The  deed  may  thus  be  pre- 
vented, and  the  interests  of  society  may  benefit  by  the 
difference ;  but  so  far  as  regards  the  individual  him- 
self, the  disruption  of  moral  harmony  is  the  same ;  and 
his  moral  aspect  must  be  similar  in  the  eye  of  the  Al- 
mighty One,  who  regards  not  the  outward  appearance 
alone,  but  who  looketh  into  the  heart.  In  this  manner  it 
may  very  often  happen,  that  strong  inducements  to  vice 

Nature  of  the  first  step  in  sin  ?  What  are  the  effects  of  yielding  to  such 
desires  ?  Can  there  be  an  indulgence  of  the  sinful  inclinations  without 
action?  What  may  prevent  action  in  such  a  case?  Is  there  any  advantage 
in  such  external  restraint  7    What  ? 


136  THE    WILL.  [part  II 

are  resisted  from  motives  referring  merely  to  health,  or 
to  character.  But  this  is  not  to  overcome  temptation  ; 
it  is  only  to  balance  one  selfish  feeling  against  another. 

III.  From  the  state  of  mind  which  has  now  been 
referred  to,  there  gradually  results  a  Moral  Habit. 
This  is  a  mental  condition,  in  which  a  desire  or  an 
affection,  repeatedly  acted  upon,  is,  after  each  repeti- 
tion, acted  upon  with  less  and  less  eflfort; — and,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  truth  or  moral  principle,  which  has  been 
repeatedly  passed  over  without  adequate  attention, 
after  every  such  act  makes  less  and  less  impression^ 
until  at  length  it  ceases  to  exert  any  influence  over  the 
moral  feelings  or  the  conduct.  I  had  occasion  to  illus- 
trate this  remarkable  principle  in  another  point  of 
view,  when  treating  of  the  connection  between  the 
emotions  of  sympathy  and  benevolence,  and  the  con- 
duct which  naturally  arises  out  of  them.  This  con- 
duct at  first  may  require  a  certain  eff'ort,  and  is  accom- 
panied by  a  strong  feeling  of  the  emotion  which  leads 
to  it.  But  after  each  repetition,  the  acts  go  on  with 
less  feeling  of  the  emotion,  and  less  reference  to  the 
principle  from  which  they  spring;  while  there  is  pro- 
gressively forming  the  habit  of  active  benevolence.  It 
is  precisely  the  same  with  habits  of  vice.  At  first  a 
deed  requires  an  effort,  and  a  powerful  contest  with 
moral  principles ;  and  it  is  speedily  followed  by  that 
feeling  of  regret,  to  which  superficial  observers  give 
the  name  of  repentance.     This  is  the  voice  of  con- 

The  moral  character  of  mere  external  restraint.  Moral  habit ;  its  nature  7 
How  is  it  that  ha'-it  confirms  a  had  or  g^ood  character?  How  are  habits  o^ 
rice  fbrmeil  ?    What  effect  is  produced  on  conscience  by  disregarding-  it  ? 


PAKT  II.]  INFLUENCE    OF    HABIT.  137 

science  ;  but  its  power  is  more  and  more  diminished 
after  ea:h  repetition  of  the  deed; — even  the  judgment 
becomes  perverted  respecting  the  first  great  principles 
of  moral  rectitude  ;  and  acts,  which  at  first  occasioned 
a  violent  conflict,  are  gone  into  without  remorse,  or 
almost  without  perception  of  their  moral  aspect.  A 
man  in  this  situation  may  still  retain  the  knowledge 
of  truths  and  principles,  which  at  one  time  exerted  an 
influence  over  his  conduct;  but  they  are  now  matters 
of  memory  alone.  Their  power  as  moral  causes  is 
gone,  and  even  the  judgment  is  altered  respecting  their 
moral  tendencies.  He  views  them  now  perhaps  as 
the  superstitions  of  the  vulgar,  or  the  prejudices  of  a 
contracted  education  ;  and  rejoices,  it  may  be,  in  his 
emancipation  from  their  authority.  He  knows  not, 
for  he  has  not  the  moral  perception  now  to  know,  that 
he  has  been  pursuing  a  downward  course,  and  that 
the  issue,  on  which  he  congratulates  himself,  consists 
in  his  last  degradation  as  a  moral  being.  Even  in  this 
state  of  moral  destitution,  indeed,  the  same  warning 
principle  may  still  raise  its  voice,  unheeded  but  not 
subdued,  repelled  as  an  enemy,  not  admitted  as  a 
friendly  monitor  and  guide.  "  I  have  not  the  smallest 
mfluence  over  lord  Byron  in  this  particular,"  writes 
one  of  the  chosen  friends  of  that  distinguished  indivi- 
dual ;  "  if  I  had,  I  certainly  should  employ  it  to  era- 
dicate from  his  great  mind  the  delusions  of  Chris- 
tianity, which,  in  spite  of  his  reason,  seem  perpetually 
to  recur,  and  to  lay  in  ambush  for  the  hours  of  sick- 


Is  the  man  whose  conscience  is  seared  ignorant  of  duty?  How  do  his 
former  correct  principles  appear  to  him  1  Can  this  principle  often  be  en- 
tirely eradicated?     Lord  Bvron's  case? 


138  THE    WILL.  [part  IT. 

ness  and  distress."  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  , 
what  the  particular  impressions  were,  from  which  this  [ 
sympathizing  friend  was  anxious  to  rescue  the  poet  ; 
They  were  probably  the  suggestions  of  a  power  with  • 
m,  which,  in  certain  seasons  of  reflection,  compelled  : 
his  attention  in  spite  of  his  attempts  to  reason  against  j 
it,  pleading  with  authority  for  a  present  Deity,  and  a  \ 
life  to  come. 

The  principle  of  habit,  therefore,  holds  a  most  im- 
portant place  in  the  moral  condition  of  every   man  ; 
and  it  applies  equally  to  any  species  of  conduct,   or  ? 
any  train  of  mental  operations,   which,  by   frequent  ) 
repetition,  have  become  so  familiar,  as  not  to  be  ac-   \ 
3ompanied  by  a  recognition  of  the  principles  in  which 
they  originated.     In  this  manner  good  habits  are  con- 
tinued without  any  immediate  sense  of  the  right  prin-  j 
ciples  by  which  they  were   formed;  but  they  arose  ^ 
from  a  frequent  and  uniform  acting  upon  these  princi-  ] 
pies,  and   on  this  is  founded  the  moral    approbation  7 
which  we  attach  to  habits  of  this  description.     In  the  ;i 
same  manner,  habits  of  vice,  and  habits  of  inattention  0 
to  any  class  of  duties,  are  perpetuated  without  a  sense  i 
of  the  principles  and  affections  which    they  violate ;   • 
but  this  arose  from  a  frequent  violation  of  these  prin- 
ciples, and   a   frequent  repulsion  of  these  aflfections,   1 
until  they  gradually  lost  their  power  over  the  conduct;  n 
and  in   this  consists  the   guilt  of  habits.     Thus  one  c 
person   acquires  habits  of  benevolence,  veracity,  and  ti 
kindness, — of  minute  attention  to  his  various  duties, —  3 


Object  of  the  quotation  ?  How  extensive  is  the  influence  of  habit  ?  Arc 
the  principles  on  which  habits  are  formed  always  present  to  the  mind  while 
.he  haluts  continue? 


PART  II.]  INFLUENCE    OF    HABIT.  139 

of  correct  mental  discipline, — and  active  direction  of 
his  thoughts  to  all  those  objects  of  attention  which 
ought  to  engage  a  well-regulated  mind  ;  another 
sinks  into  habits  of  listless  vacuity  or  frivolity  of 
mind, — of  vicious  indulgence  and  contracted  selfish- 
ness,— of  neglect  of  important  duties,  disregard  to  the 
feelings  of  others,  and  total  indifference  to  all  those 
considerations  and  pursuits  which  claim  the  highest 
regard  of  every  responsible  being;  and  the  striking 
fact  is^  that,  after  a  certain  period,  all  this  may  go  on 
without  a  feeling  that  aught  is  wrong  either  in  the 
moral  condition,  or  the  state  of  mental  discipline;  such 
is  the  power  of  a  moral  habit. 

The  important  truth,  therefore,  is  deserving  of  the 
deepest  and  most  habitual  attention,  that  character 
consists  in  a  great  measure  in  habits,  and  that  habits 
arise  out  of  individual  actions  and  individual  opera- 
tions of  the  mind.  Hence  the  importance  of  carefully 
weighing  every  action  of  our  lives,  and  every  train  of 
thought  that  we  encourage  in  our  minds  ;  for  we  never 
can  determine  the  effect  of  a  single  act,  or  a  single 
mental  process,  in  giving  that  influence  to  the  charac- 
ter, or  to  the  moral  condition,  the  result  of  which  shall 
be  decisive  and  permanent.  In  the  whole  history  of 
habits,  indeed,  we  see  a  wondrous  display  of  that  re- 
markable order  of  sequences  which  has  been  esta- 
blished in  our  mental  constitution,  and  by  which  every 
man  becomes,  in  an  important  sense,  the  master  of  his 
own  moral  destiny.  For  each  act  of  virtue  tends 
to  make   him  more  virtuous ;    and   each  act  of  vice 


Examples?   Connection  between  habit  and  character?    Influence  of  sing:lc 
acis  ?     The  tendency  of  each  act  of  virtue  ? 


140  THE    WILL.  [part  II. 


gives  new  strength  to  an  influence  within,  which  will    j 
certainly  render  him  more  and  more  vicious.  ^ 

These  considerations  have  a  practical  tendency  of  • 
the  utmost  interest.  In  subduing  habits  of  an  injuri- 
ous character,  the  laws  of  mental  sequences,  which 
have  now  been  referred  to,  must  be  carefully  acted  : 
upon.  When  the  judgment,  influenced  by  the  indica-  jf 
tions  of  conscience,  is  convinced  of  the  injurious  nature-* 
of  the  habit,  the  attention  must  be  steadily  and  habi-  ^ 
tually  directed  to  the  truths  which  produced  this  im-  ^ 
pression.  There  will  thus  arise  desire  to  be  delivered  ; 
from  the  habit,  or,  in  other  Avords,  to  cultivate  the,' 
course  of  action  that  is  opposed  to  it.  This  desire,^ 
being  cherished  in  the  mind,  is  then  made  to  bear-; 
upon  every  individual  case  in  which  a  propensity  is; 
felt  towards  particular  actions,  or  particular  mental' 
processes,  referable  to  the  habit.  The  new  inclination  . 
is  at  first  acted  upon  with  an  effort,  but,  after  every  . 
instance  of  success,  less  efl'ort  is  required,  until  at:' 
length  the  new  course  of  action  is  confirmed,  and  over-'  1 
powers  the  habit  to  which  it  was  opposed.  But  thati. 
this  result  may  take  place,  it  is  necessary  that  the  | 
mental  process  be  followed,  in  the  manner  distinctly 
indicated  by  the  philosophy  of  the  moral  feelings;  for- 
if  this  is  not  attended  to,  the  expected  effect  may  nott. 
follow,  even  under  circumstances  which  appear,  at  t 
first  sight,  most  likely  to  produce  it.  On  this  principle ;. 
we  are  to  explain  the  fact,  that  bad  habits  may  be  ■ 
long  suspended  by  some  powerful  extrinsic  influence, 

Of  each  act  of  vice  ?  What  practical  lessons  are  to  be  learned  from  these  ' 
views  ?  Process  by  which  bad  habits  are  corrected  ?  May  bad  habits  be  i 
•uspended  without  being  broken? 


PART  II.]  MEANS    OF    REGULATING    IT.  141 

while  they  are  m  no  degree  broken.  Thus,  a  person 
addicted  to  intemperance  will  bind  himself  by  an  oath 
to  abstain,  for  a  certain  time,  from  intoxicating  liquors. 
In  an  instance  which  has  been  related  to  me,  an  indi- 
vidual mider  this  process  observed  the  most  rigid  so- 
briety for  five  years,  but  was  found  in  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation the  very  day  after  the  period  of  abstinence  ex- 
pired. In  such  a  case,  the  habit  is  suspended  by  the 
mere  influence  of  the  oath ;  but  the  desire  continues 
unsubdued,  and  resumes  all  its  former  power  whenever 
this  artificial  restraint  is  withdrawn.  The  effect  is  the 
same  as  if  the  man  had  been  in  confinement  during 
the  period,  or  had  been  kept  from  his  favorite  indul- 
gence by  some  other  restraint  entirely  of  an  external 
kind ;  the  gratification  was  prevented,  but  his  moral 
nature  contumed  unchanged. 

These  principles  may  be  confidently  stated  as  facts 
in  the  moral  constitution  of  man,  challenging  the  assent 
( f  every  candid  observer  of  human  nature.  Several 
conclusions  seem  to  arise  out  of  them,  of  the  utmost 
practical  importance.  We  perceive,  in  the  first  place, 
a  state  which  the  mind  may  attain,  in  which  there  is 
such  a  disruption  of  its  moral  harmony,  that  no  power 
appears  in  the  mind  itself  capable  of  restoring  it  to  a 
healthy  condition.  This  important  fact  in  the  philo- 
sophy of  human  nature  has  been  clearly  recognised, 
from  the  earliest  ages,  on  the  mere  principles  of  human 
science.    It  is  distinctly  stated  by  Aristotle  in  his  Nico- 

Example  given.  A  fact  illustrative  of  this.  Remarks  upon  the  case. 
What  is  meant  by  the  phrase  "challenging  the  assent?"  First  practical 
conclusion  drawa  from  these  principles.  Hopeless  condition  in  which  a 
mind  may  he  placed  ?     Has  this  fact  always  been  admitted  ? 


142  THE    WILL.  [part  II 

machean  Ethics,  where  he  draws  a  striking  comparison 
between  a  man  who.  being  first  misled  by  sopliistical 
reasonings,  has  gone  into  a  Ufe  of  vohiptuousness 
under  an  impression  that  he  was  doing  no  wrong,  and 
one  who  has  followed  the  same  course  in  opposition  to 
his  own  moral  convictions.  The  former  he  contends 
might  be  reclaimed  by  argument;  but  the  latter  he 
considers  as  incurable.  In  such  a  state  of  mind,  there- 
fore, it  follows  by  an  induction  which  cannot  be  con- 
troverted, either  that  the  evil  is  irremediable  and  hope- 
less, or  that  we  must  look  for  a  power  from  without 
the  mind  which  may  afford  an  adequate  remedy.  We 
are  thus  led  to  perceive  the  adaptation  and  the  proba- 
bility of  the  provisions  of  Christianity,  where  an  in- 
fluence is  indeed  disclosed  to  us,  capable  of  restoring 
the  harmony  which  has  been  lost,  and  raising  man 
anew  to  his  place  as  a  moral  being.  We  cannot 
hesitate  to  believe  that  the  Power,  who  framed  the 
wondrous  fabric,  may  thus  hold  intercourse  with  it, 
and  redeem  it  from  disorder  and  ruin.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  accords  with  the  highest  conceptions  we  can 
form  of  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity,  that  he  should 
thus  look  upon  his  creatures  in  their  hour  of  need;  and 
the  system  disclosing  such  communication  appears, 
upon  every  principle  of  sound  philosophy,  to  be  one 
of  harmony,  consistency,  and  truth.  The  subject, 
therefore,  leads  our  attention  to  that  inward  change, 
so  often  the  scoff  of  the  profane,  but  to  which  so  pro- 
minent a  place  is  assigned  in  the  sacred  writings,  in 

What  ancient  author  is  appealed  to  in  proof?  Substance  of  the  view 
quoted  from  Aristotle  ?  What  is  the  provision  made  in  Christianity  for  a 
mind  thus  hopelessly  lost?  Is  then  any  philosophical  presumption  againsl 
such  a  divine  influence  ? 


PART  n.]  MEANS    OF    REGULATING    IT.  143 

wliich  a  man  is  said  to  be  created  anew  by  a  power 
from  heaven,  and  elevated  in  his  whole  views  and 
feelings  as  a  moral  being.  Sound  philosophy  teaches 
us,  that  there  is  a  state  in  which  nothing  less  than 
such  a  complete  transformation  can  restore  th^  man  to 
a  healthy  moral  condition,  and  that,  for  producing  it, 
nothing  will  avail  but  an  influence  from  without  the 
mind, — a  might  and  a  power  from  the  same  Almighty 
One  who  originally  framed  it.  Philosophy  teaches,  in 
the  clearest  manner,  that  a  portion  of  mankind  require 
such  a  transformation ;  Christianity  informs  us  that  it 
is  rt;quired  by  all.  When  the  inductions  of  science 
and  the  dictates  of  revelation  harmonize  to  this  extent, 
who  shall  dare  to  assert  that  the  latter  are  not  truth  7 
Who,  that  places  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  being  of 
infinite  purity,  will  say,  he  requires  not  such  a  change ; 
or  that,  for  the  production  of  it,  he  needs  no  agency, 
beyond  the  resources  of  his  own  mind  7  If  none  be 
found  who  is  entitled  to  believe  he  forms  the  excep- 
tion^ we  are  forced  into  the  acknowledgment  of  the 
truth,  so  powerfully  impressed  upon  us  in  the  sacred 
writings,  that,  in  the  eye  of  the  Almighty  One,  no  man 
in  himself  is  righteous ;  and  that  his  own  power  avails 
not  for  restoring  him  to  a  state  of  moral  purity. 

From  the  whole  of  this  inquiry,  we  see,  in  the  second 
place,  the  deep  influence  of  habits,  and  the  fearful 
power  which  they  may  acquire  over  the  whole  moral 
system  ;  considerations  of  the  highest  practical  interest 

What  does  sound  philosophy  teach  in  respect  to  the  necessity  of  such  a 
change?  Does  Christianity  teach  that  this  change  is  necessary  for  all? 
Can  any  think  he  himself  is  an  exception?  Second  practical  inference  from 
the  principles  discussed  in  this  chapter  ? 


144  THE    "WILL.  [part  II. 

to  those  who  would  prevent  the  formation  of  habits  of 
an  injurious  nature,  or  who,   fechng   their  iniluence,  , 
strive  to  be  deUvered  from  them.     There  is  indeed  a  ; 
point  in  this  downward  course,  where  the  habit  has  { 
acquired  undisputed  power,  and  the  whole  moral  feel- 
ings yield  to   it  unresisting  submission.     Peace  may 
then  be  within,  but  that  peace  is  the  stillness  of  death;,  i 
and,  unless  a  voice  from  heaven  shall  wake  the  dead|  \ 
the  moral  being  is  lost.     But.  in  the  progress  towards  ^ 
this  fearful  issue,  there  may  be  a  tumult,  and  a  contest,  • 
and  a  strife,  and  the  voice  of  conscience  may  still  com-  j 
mand  a  certain  attention  to  its  warnings.    While  there 
are  these  indications  of  life,  there  is  yet  hope  of  the 
man;  but  on  each  moment  is  now  suspended  his  moral  i; 
existence.     Let  him  retire  from  the  influence  of  exter--.; 
nal   things;  and   listen   to  that  voice  within,  which^^; 
though  often  unheeded,  still  pleads  for  God.     Let  himi> 
call  to  aid  those  high  truths  which  relate  to  the  pre--^ 
sence  and  inspection  of  this  being  of  infinite  purity,  .^ 
and  the  solemnities  of  a  life  which  is  to  come.     Above ^i 
all,  let  him  look  up  in  humble  supplication  to  that  purep^) 
and  holy   One,    who  is  the  witness  of  this   warfare, 
who  will   regard  it  with  compassion,  and  impart  his  ^ 
powerful   aid.     But  let  him  not  presumptuously  rely.> 
on  this  aid,  as   if  the  victory  were  already  secured 
The  contest  is  but  begun ;  and  there  must  be  a  con- 
tinued effort,  and  unceasing  watchfulness,  a  habitual.^; 
direction   of  the  attention  to  those  truths  which,  as.N 
moral  causes,  are  calculated  to  act  upon  the  mind, — 

State  of  the  mind  when  had  hahits  havo  acquired  complete  dnmininn? 
How  can  we  best  contend  against  sin  while  the  habit  is  not  fully  formed  ? 
Sources  of  aid  ?  Is  the  mind  to  rest  exclusively  on  the  expectation  of  divine, 
aid,  without  personal  effort? 


PART  n.J  MEANS    OF    REGULATING    IT.  145 

and  a  constant  reliance  upon  the  power  from  on  high 
which  is  felt  to  be  real  and  indispensable.  With  all 
this  provision,  his  progress  may  be  slow ;  for  the  op- 
posing principle,  and  the  influence  of  established  moral 
habits,  may  be  felt  contending  for  their  former  domi- 
nion ;  but  by  each  advantage  that  is  achieved  over 
them,  their  power  will  be  broken  and  finally  destroyed. 
Now  in  all  this  contest  towards  the  purity  of  the  moral 
being,  each  step  is  no  less  a  process  of  the  mind  itself 
than  the  downward  course  by  which  it  was  preceded. 
It  consists  in  a  surrender  of  the  will  to  the  suggestions 
01  conscience,  and  a  habitual  direction  of  the  attention 
to  those  truths  which  are  calculated  to  act  upon  the 
moral  volitions.  In  this  course,  the  man  feels  that  he 
is  authorized  to  look  for  a  might  and  an  influence  not 
his  own.  This  is  no  imaginary  or  mysterious  impres- 
sion, which  one  may  fancy  that  he  feels,  and  then 
pass  on  contented  with  the  vision ;  but  a  poAver  which 
act^  through  the  healthy  operations  of  his  own  mind  ; 
it  is  in  his  own  earnest  exertions,  as  a  rational  being, 
to  regulate  these  operations,  that  he  is  encouraged  to 
expect  its  communication ;  and  it  is  in  feeling  these 
assuming  the  characters  of  moral  health,  that  he  has 
the  proof  of  its  actual  presence. 

And  where  is  the  improbability  that  the  pure  and 
holy  One,  who  framed  the  wondrous  moral  being,  may 
thus  hold  mtercourse  with  it,  and  impart  an  influence 
in  its  hour  of  deepest  need.  According  to  the  utmost 
of  our  conceptions,  it  is  the  highest  of  his  works,  for 

Can  we  expect  very  rapid  progress  in  eradicating  sinful  habits  ?  Nature 
of  the  process  hy  which  the  mind  returns  to  virtue  ?  Is  there  any  natura. 
improhabiJity  that  God  may  hold  an  intercourse  with  the  soul  of  man  ? 

13 


146  THE    WILL.  [part  II. 

he  has  endowed  it  with  the  power  of  rising  to  the  con- 
templation of  himself,  and  with  the  capacit}^  of  aspiring 
to  the   imitation   of  his  own  moral  perfections.     We 
cannot,  for  a  moment,  doubt,  that  his  eye  must  reach 
its  inmost  movements,  and  that  all  its  emotions,  and 
desires,  and  volitions,  are  exposed  to  his  view.     We  , 
must   believe   that  he   looks   with   displeasure   when  ij 
he   perceives    them    wandering    from    himself;    and ;' 
contemplates  with   approbation  the  contest,  Avhen  the  ; 
spirit  strives  to  throw  off  its  moral  bondage,  and  to  ; 
fight   its   way  upwards  to  a  conformity  to   his  Avill.  ■ 
Upon   every  principle   of  sound   philosophy,    all  this^L 
must  be  open  to  his  inspection ;  and  we  can  perceive  '^ 
nothing  opposed  to  the  soundest  inductions  of  reason  i; 
in  the  belief,   that   he  should  impart  an  influence  to  >, 
the  feeble  being  in  this  high  design,  and  conduct  him  i( 
to  its  accomplishment.     In  all  this,   in  fact,  there  is^ 
so  little   improbability,   that  we  find  it  impossible  tO);, 
suppose  it  could  be  otherwise.     We  find  it  impossible  ^u 
to  believe,    that  such  a  mental  process  could   go   on 
without  the  knowledge  of  him  whose  presence  is  in 
every  place,  or  that,  looking  upon  it,   he  should  want 
either   the   power   or   the   willingness   to   impart    his 
efiectual  aid. 

But,  independently  of  our  conviction  of  an  actual, 
communication  from  the  Deity,  there  is  a  power  in  the( 
mind  itself,  which  is  calculated  to  draw  down  upon  itt 
an  influence  of  the  most  eflficient  kind.  This  is  pro-»^j 
duced  by  the  mental   process  which  we  call  Faith 


Why  not  ?  Degree  of  minuteness  with  which  God  must  watch  the  move  r 
monts  of  the  soul?  Inference  which  the  writer  draws  from  this?  Wha'e^ 
view  (!nps  the  author  talce  of  the  power  of  faith?  ; 


PART  II.]  MEANS    OF    REGULATING    IT.  147 

and  it   may  be   illustrated   by  an   impression  which 
many  must  have  experienced.     Let  us  suppose  that  we 
have  a  friend  of  exalted  intelligence  and  virtue,  who 
has  often  exercised  over  us  a  commanding  influence, — 
restraining  us  from  pursuits  to  which  we  felt  an  incli- 
nation, exciting   us  to  virtuous  conduct,    and  elevat- 
ng,  by  his  intercourse  with  us,  our  impressions  of  a 
character  on  which  we  wished  to  form  our  own.     Let 
us  suppose  that  we  are  removed  to  a  distance  from 
this   friend,    and    that  circumstances   of  difiiculty  or 
danger  occur,  in  Avhich  we  feel  the  want  of  a  guide 
and  counsellor.     In  the  reflections  which  the  situation 
naturally   gives   rise   to,    the  image   of  our   friend  is 
brought  before  us ;  an  influence  is  conveyed  analogous 
to  that  which  was  often  produced  by  his  presence  and 
lis  counsel ;  and  we  feel  as  if  he  were  actually  present, 
0  tender  his  advice  and  watch  our  conduct.     How 
iiuch  would  this  impression  be   increased,   could  we 
toher  entertain  the  thought,  that  this  absent  friend 
vas  able,  in  some  way,  to  communicate  with  us,  so 
ar  as  to  be  aware  of  our  present  circumstances,  and  to 
)erceive  our  efforts  to  recall  the  influence  of  his  cha- 
acter  upon  our  own. — Such  is  the  intercourse  of  the 
;oul   with   God.     Every   movement   of   the   mind   is 
:nown  to  him ;  his  eye  is  present  with  it,  when,  in 
ny  situation  of  duty,  distress,  or  mental  discipline,  the 
nan,  under  this  exercise  of  faith,  realizes  the  presence 
,nd  character  of  the  Deity,  and  solemnly  inquires  how, 
n  the  particular  instance,   his  moral  feelings  and  his 
onduct  will  appear  in   the  eye  of  him  who  sceth  in 

ecret.     This  is  no  vision  of  the  imagination,  but  a 

p 

Illustration  ?     State  fully  the  case  supposed.     Application  of  the  case. 


I4H  THE    WILL.  [part  II. 

fact  supported  by  every  principle  of  sound  reason, — an 
influence  which  a  man  brings  down  upon  himself, 
when,  by  an  effort  of  his  own  mind,  he  thus  places 
himself  in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  Almighty. 
The  man  who  does  so  in  every  decision  of  life  is  he 
who  lives  by  faith ;  and,  whether  we  regard  the  ^Ji- 
ductions  of  reason,  or  the  dictates  of  sacred  truth,  such 
a  man  is  taught  to  expect  an  influence  greater  and 
more  effectual  still.  This  is  a  power  immediately 
from  God,  which  shall  be  to  him  direction  in  every 
doubt,  light  in  every  darkness,  strength  in  his  ut- 
most weakness,  and  comfort  in  all  distress ;  a  power 
which  shall  bear  upon  all  the  principles  of  his  moral 
nature,  when  he  carries  on  the  mighty  conflict  of 
bringing  every  desire  and  every  volition  under  a  con- 
formity to  the  divine  will.  We  again  hazard  with 
confidence  the  assertion,  that  in  all  this  there  is  na^ 
improbability;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  impro-' 
bability  is  entirely  on  the  other  side, — in  supposingi' 
that  any  such  mental  process  could  take  place,  without; 
the  knowledge  and  the  interposition  of  that  incompre- 
hensible One,  whose  eye  is  upon  all  his  works. 

Way  Id  which  ftith  operates  to  preserve  the  moraJ  powers?    The  resulln 
of  it? 


PART   III. 


OF  THE  MORAL  PRINCIPLE,  OR 
CONSCIENCE. 


There  has  been  much  dispute  respecting  the  nature 
and  even  the  existence  of  the  Moral  Principle,  as  a 
distinct  element  of  our  mental  constitution;  but  this 
controversy  may  probably  be  considered  as  allied  to 
other  speculations  of  a  metaphysical  nature,  in  regard 
to  which  a  kind  of  evidence  was  sought  of  which  the 
subjects  are  not  susceptible.  Without  arguing  re- 
specting the  propriety  of  speaking  of  a  separate  power 
or  principle,  we  simply  contend  for  the  fact,  that  there 
is  a  mental  exercise,  by  which  we  feel  certain  actions 
to  be  right  and  certain  others  wrong.  It  is  an  element 
or  a  movement  of  our  moral  nature  which  admits  of  no 
analysis,  and  no  explanation ;  and  is  referable  to  no 
other  principle  than  a  simple  recognition  of  the  fact, 

I  Suliject  of  this  lesson  ?  What  dispute  in  respect  to  the  moral  principle 

1  does  the  author  allude  to  ?  Does  he  intend  to  enter  into  this  dispufr- '?     He 

i  insists  only  upon  a  certain  fact ;  what  is  it  ?     Can  this  fact  oe  analyzed  oi 

I  explained? 

13* 


150  THE    MORAL  PRINCFPLE.  fPART  III. 

which   forces   itself  upon  the  conviction  of  evTry  m:in  ^ 
who  looks  into  the  processes  of  his  own  mind.     Of  the  ' 
existence  and  the  nature  of  this  most  important  princi- 
ple,   therefore,    the  evidence  is  entirely  within.     We  ^ 
appeal  to  the  consciousness  of  every  man,  that  he  per-  i 
ceives  a  power  which,  in  particular  cases,  warns  himi^ 
of  the  conduct  which  he  ought  to  pursue,  and  admi-  P 
nisters  a  solemn   admonition  when   he  has  departed 
from  it.     For,  while  his  judgment  conveys  to  him  am^ 
impression,   both  of  the  tendencies  and  certain  of  the 
qualities  of  actions,  he  has,  besides  this,  a  feeling  by 
which  he  views  the  actions  with  approbation  or  disap- 
probation,  in  reference  purely  to  their  moral  aspect, 
and  without  any  regard  to  their  consequences.     Wheiii 
we  refer  to  the  sacred  writings,  we  find  the  principle 
of  conscience  represented  as  a  power  of  such  impor- 
tance, that,  without  any  acquired  knowledge,  or  any^ 
actual  precepts,  it  is  sufficient  to  establish,   in  every 
man,  such  an  impression  of  his  duty  as  leaves  himi 
without  excuse  in  the  neglect  of  it : — ''  For  when  the 
Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  • 
things  contained  in  the  law,  these,  having  not  the  law, 
are  a  law  unto  themselves  :  which  show  the  work  of 
the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience  also 
bearing  witness,    and   their   thoughts   the  meanwhile 
accusing   or   else  excusing  one   another."     We   even 
find  a  power  assigned  to  the  decisions  of  conscience, 
difiering  in  extent  only,  but   not   in   kind,    from   thea 
judgment  of  the  Almighty: — "If  ovu'  heart  condemn'^ 

Wliere  do  we  find  the  evidence  of  ii  ?     Diflerence  between  the  judijmcnt 
and  the  moral  sense,  in  respect  to  their  decisions  on  human  actions  ?     Scrip- "t 
Nural  view  of  conscience  ?     Quotation.     Where  is  this  j.assage  found  ? 


PART  III.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  151 

US,  God  is  greater   than  our  heart,  and    knoweth  all 
thhigs." 

The  province  of  conscience  then  appears  to  be,  to 
convey  to  man  a  certain  conviction  of  what  is  mo- 
rally right  and  wrong,  in  regard  to  conduct  in  indivi- 
dual cases,  and  to  the  general  exercise  of  the  desires 
or  affections.  This  it  does  independently  of  any  ac- 
quired knowledge,  and  without  reference  to  any  other 
standard  of  duty.  It  does  so,  by  a  rule  of  right  which 
it  carries  within  itself:  and  by  applying  this  to  the 
primary  moral  feehngs,  that  is,  the  desires  and  affec- 
tions, so  as  to  indicate  among  them  a  just  and  healthy 
balance  toAvards  each  other.  The  desires  direct  us  to 
certain  gratifications  which  we  feel  to  be  worthy  of 
acquirement ;  and  the  affections  lead  us  to  a  certain 
course  of  conduct  which  we  feel  to  be  agreeable  to 
ourselves,  or  useful  to  others.  But,  to  act  under  the 
influence  of  conscience  is  to  perform  actions,  simply 
because  we  feel  them  to  be  right,  and  to  abstain  from 
others,  simply  because  we  feel  them  to  be  wrong, — 
without  regard  to  any  other  impression,  or  to  the  con- 
sequence of  the  actions  either  to  ourselves  or  others. 
He,  who  on  this  principle  performs  an  action,  though 
it  may  be  highly  disagreeable  to  him,  or  abstains  from 
another  though  it  may  be  highly  desirable,  is  a  consci- 
entious man.  Such  a  man,  under  the  influence  of  ha- 
bit, comes  to  act  more  and  more  easily  under  the  sug- 
gestions of  conscience,  and  to  be  more  and  more  set 
free  from  every  feeling  and  propensity  that  is  opposed 

The  true  province  of  conscience  ?  Do  its  decisions  depend  upon  acquired 
knowledge  ?  How  does  it  obtain  its  rule  of  right  ?  Difference  between  the 
desires,  the  affections,  and  the  conscience,  in  their  influence  on  human 
•onauct  ?     Influence  of  habit. 


152  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IIT.    } 

to   it.     Conscience   seems   therefore   to   he  Id   a   placo  ' 
among  the   moral   poAvers,  analogous    to    that  which  j 
reason  holds  among  the  intellectual ;    and,  when  we  \ 
view  it  in  this  relation,  there  appears  a  beautiful  har- 
mony pervading  the  whole  economy  of  the  mind. 

By  certain  intellectual  operations,  man  acquires  the  : 
knowledge  of  a  series  of  facts ;    he  remembers  them,  f 
he  separates  and  classifies  them,  and  forms  them  into  I 
new  combinations.     But,  with  the  most  active  exercise 
of  all  these   operations,    his   mind   might   present  an  « 
accumulation   of  facts,    without   order,    harmony,    or  ; 
utility  ;    without    any   principle    of    combination,    or  ' 
combined  only  in  those  fantastic  and  extravagant  forms  ^ 
Avhich  appear  in  the  conceptions  of  the  maniac.     It  is :' 
reason  that  reduces  the  whole  into  order  and  harmony, 
by  comparing,   distinguishing,  and  tracing  their  true 
analogies  and  relations,  and  then  by  deducing  truths 
as  conclusions  from  the  whole.     It  is  in  this  manner 
particularly,  that  a  man  acquires  a  knowledge  of  the ' 
uniform  actions  of  bodies  on  each  other,  and,  confiding: 
in  the  uniformity  of  these  actions,  learns  to  direct  his<! 
means  to  the  ends  which  he  has  in  view.     He  knows 
also  his  own  relations  to  other  sentient  beings,   and 
adapts  his  conduct  to  them,  according  to  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  is  placed,  the  persons  with  whom 
he   is   connected,    and   the   objects   which  he   wishes 
to  accomplish.     He  learns  to  accommodate  his  mea-  -^ 
sures  to  new  circumstances  as  they  arise,  and  thus  is 
guided   and  directed   through   his  physical   relations. 


AnaloG^y  between  conscience  and   reason  ?     Condition  of  intellectnal  ac- 
quisitions, without  reason  7    Province  of  reason; — its  powers.    Exainjle  ^^ 
given  ? 


PART  III. J  rhE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  153 

When  reason  is  suspended,  all  this  harmony'  is  de- 
stroyed. The  visions  of  the  mind  are  acted  npon  as 
facts ;  things  are  combined  hito  fantastic  forms,  enthely 
apart  from  their  true  relations  ;  conduct  is  widely  at 
variance  with  what  circumstances  require ;  ends  are 
attempted  by  means  which  have  no  relation  to  them ; 
and  the  ends  themselves  are  equally  at  variance  with 
those  which  are  suitable  to  the  circumstances  of  the 
individual.  Such  is  the  maniac,  whom  accordingly 
we  shut  up,  to  prevent  him  from  being  dangerous  to 
the  public ; — for  he  has  been  known  to  mistake  so  re- 
markably the  relations  of  things,  and  the  conduct 
adapted  to  his  circumstances,  as  to  murder  his  most 
valuable  friend,  or  his  own  helpless  infant. 

In  all  this  process,  there  is  a  striking  analogy  to  cer- 
tain conditions  of  the  moral  feelings,  and  to  the  control 
which  is  exercised  over  them  by  the  principle  of  con- 
science. By  self-love,  a  man  is  led  to  seek  his  own 
gratification  or  advantage  ;  and  the  desires  direct  him 
to  certain  objects  by  which  these  propensities  may  be 
gratified.  But  the  affections  carry  forth  his  views  to 
other  men  with  whom  he  is  connected  by  various  rela- 
tions, and  to  the  offices  of  justice,  veracity,  and  bene- 
volence, which  arise  out  of  them.  Conscience  is  the 
regulating  power,  which  acting  upon  the  desires  and 
affections,  as  reason  does  upon  a  series  of  facts,  pre- 
serves among  them  harmony  and  order.  It  does  so  by 
repressing  the  propensity  of  selfishness,  and  reminding 
the  man  of  the  true  relation  between  regard  to  his  own 

Effect  resulting  when  reason  is  suspended  ?  Extremes  to  which  this  dis 
order  extends  in  the  case  of  the  maniac  /  What  analog}'  does  the  writer 
draw  from  tliis  ?  Condition  of  the  moral  powers  without  consc'ience  ?  Pro 
rince  and  influence  of  the  conscience? 


154  THE    MORAL    PRINXIPLE.  [PART  III.  ! 

interest  and  the  duties  he  owes  to  other  men.     It  regu- ' 
lates  his  desires  and   pursuits,  by  carrying  liis  viewss,' 
beyond  present  feehngs  and  present  gratifications,  to  J 
future  times  and   future  consequences,  and  by  raising 
his  attention  to  his  ^'elation  to  the  great  moral  governor 
of  the  universe.     He  thus  learns  to  adapt  his  conduct  • 
and  pursuits,  not  to  present  and  transient  feelings,  but' 
to  an  extended  view  of  his  great  and  true  interests  as ! 
a  moral  being.     Such  is  conscience, — still,  like  reason../ 
pointing  out  the  moral  ends  a  man  ought  to  pursue, ' 
and  guiding  him  in  the  means  by  which   he  ought  to' 
pursue  them  ; — and  the  man  does  not  act  in  conformity 
with  the  constitution  of  his  nature,  who  does  not  yield' 
to  conscience  the  supremacy  and  direction  over  all  his 
other  feehngs  and  principles  of  action.     But  the  ana- 
logy does  not  stop  here ;  for  we  can  also  trace  a  con- 
dition in  which  this  controlling  influence  of  conscience' 
is  suspended  or  lost.     I  formerly  endeavored  to  trace< 
the   manner  in  which   this  derangement   arises,    and' 
have  now  only  to  allude  to  its  influence  on  the  har- 
mony of  the  moral  feelings.     Self-love  degenerates  into' 
loAV   selfish    gratification  :    the    desires   are   indulged 
without  any  other  restraint  than  that  which  arises  from' 
a  mere  selfish  principle,  as  a  regard  to  health,  perhaps 
in  some  degree  to  reputation  :  the  affections  arc  exer- 
cised only  in  so  far  as  similar  principles  impose  a  cer-i 
tain  degree  of  attention  to  them :  present  and  momen- ' 
tary  impulses  are  acted  upon,  without  any  regard   iO(: 
future  results  :  conduct  is  adapted  to  present  gratifica- 

How  does  it  operate?     What  power  ought  to  be  supreme  in  the  intellec-' 
lual  constitution?     What  in  the  moral?     State  of  the  mind  when  the  con  i 

troUmg  power  of  conscience  is  lost?     State  of  the  desires?     of   then 

reflections  ? 


PART  III.]  THE    .^.lORAI.    TMlINflpl.E.  I OO 

tion,  without  the  perception  either  of  its  racral  aspect, 
or  its  consequences  to  the  man  hmiself  as  a  responsible 
being;  and  without  regard  to  the  means  by  which 
these  feeUngs  are  gratified.  In  all  this  violation  of 
moral  harmony,  there  is  no  derangement  of  the  ordi- 
nary exercise  of  judgment.  In  the  most  remarkable 
example  that  can  be  furnished  by  the  history  of  human 
depravity,  the  man  may  be  as  acute  as  ever  in  the 
details  of  business  or  the  pursuits  of  commerce.  There 
is  no  diminution  of  his  sound  estimate  of  physical 
relations,  for  this  is  the  province  of  reason.  But  there 
is  a  total  derangement  of  his  sense  and  approbation  of 
moral  relations,  for  this  is  conscience.  Such  a  condi- 
tion of  mind,  then,  appears  to  be,  in  reference  to  the 
moral  feelings,  what  insanity  is  in  regard  to  the  intel- 
lectual. The  intellectual  maniac  fancies  himself  a 
king,  surrounded  by  every  form  of  earthly  splendor, 
and  this  hallucination  is  not  corrected  even  by  the 
sight  of  his  bed  of  straw  and  all  the  horrors  of  his  cell. 
The  moral  maniac  pursues  his  way,  and  thinks  him- 
self a  wise  and  a  happy  man ;  but  feels  not  that  he  is 
treading  a  downward  course,  and  is  lost  as  a  moral 
being. 

In  the  preceding  observations  respecting  the  moral 
principle  or  conscience,  I  have  alluded  chiefly  to  its 
influence  in  preserving  a  certain  harmony  among  the 
other  feelings, — in  regulating  the  desires  by  the  indi- 

In  such  cases  of  moral  depravity,  is  there  necessarily  any  disorder  of  the 
jadgmeni  ?  Facts  showing  this  ?  Is  the  disorder  in  such  a  case  in  the 
moral  or  in  the  intellectual  constitutioa  ?  Parallel  between  the  intellecfiiai 
and  the  moral  maniac  ?  Ir.  what  po:  ->X  of  view  has  the  influence  of  conscience' 
heen  thiis  far  spoken  of? 


156  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III 

cations  of  moral  purity, — and  preventing  self-love 
from  interfering  with  the  duties  and  affections  wliich 
we  owe  to  other  men.  But  there  is  another  and  a 
most  important  purpose  which  is  answered  by  this 
faculty,  and  that  is,  to  make  us  acquainted  with  the 
moral  attributes  of  the  Deity.  In  strict  philosophical 
language  we  ought  perhaps  to  say,  that  this  high  pur- 
pose is  accomplished  by  a  combined  operation  of  con- 
science and  reason:  but,  however  this  may  be,  the 
process  appears  clear  and  intelligible  in  its  nature,  and 
fully  adapted  to  the  end  now  assigned  to  it.  From  a 
simple  exercise  of  mind,  directed  to  the  great  pheno- 
mena of  nature,  we  acquire  the  knowledge  of  a  First 
Cause,  a  being  of  infinite  power  and  inliiiite  wisdom; 
and  this  conclusion  is  impressed  upon  us  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  when,  from  our  own  bodily  and  mental  en- 
dowments, we  infer  the  attributes  of  him  who  framed 
us: — "  He  that  planted  the  ear,"  says  a  sacred  writer, 
''shall  he  not  hear;  he  that  formed  the  eye,  shall  he 
not  see ;  he  that  teacheth  man  knowledge,  shall  not 
he  know?"  When  we  trace  backwards  a  series  of 
finite  yet  intelligent  beings,  Ave  must  arrive  at  one  of 
two  conclusions  : — We  must  either  trace  the  scries 
through  an  infinite  and  eternal  succession  of  finite 
beings,  each  the  cause  of  the  one  which  succeeded  it; 
or  we  must  refer  the  commencement  of  the  series  to 
one  great  intelligent  being,  himself  uncaused,  infinite 
and  eternal.  To  trace  the  series  to  one  being,  finite,  yet 
uncaused,  is  totally  inadmissible ;  and  not  less  so  is  the 

What  other  important  purpose  is  it  intended  to  answer  ?  Strictly  speak- 
\ng!  what  two  powers  combine  to  give  us  this  knowledge '?  Process  hy 
which  it  is  acquired  '?  Two  conclusions,  from  which  we  must  chooKft,  in 
tracing  hark  the  series  of  intelligent  heings? 


PART  III.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  157 

conception  of  finite  beings  m  an  infinite  and  eternal 
series.  The  belief  of  one  infinite  being,  self-existent 
and  eternal,  is,  therefore,  the  only  conclusion  at  which 
we  can  arrive,  as  presenting  any  characters  of  credi- 
bility or  truth.  The  superintending  care,  the  goodness, 
and  benevolence  of  the  Deity,  we  learn,  with  a  feeling 
of  equal  certainty,  from  the  ample  provision  he  has 
made  for  supplying  the  wants  and  ministering  to  the 
comfort  of  all  the  creatures  whom  he  has  made.  This 
part  of  the  argument,  also,  is  in  the  clearest  manner 
insisted  upon  in  the  sacred  writings ;  when  the  apostle 
Paul,  in  calling  upon  the  people  of  Lystra  to  worship 
the  true  God,  who  made  heaven  and  earth,  adds,  as  a 
source  of  knowledge  from  which  they  ought  to  learn 
his  character,  "  He  left  not  himself  without  a  witness, 
in  that  he  did  good,  and  gave  us  rain  from  heaven  and 
fruitful  seasons,  filling  our  hearts  with  food  and  glad- 
ness." 

A  being,  thus  endowed  with  infinite  power,  wisdom 
and  goodness,  we  cannot  conceive  to  exist  without 
moral  feelings ;  and,  by  a  process  equally  obvious,  we 
arrive  at  a  distinct  knowledge  of  these,  when,  from 
the  moral  perceptions  of  our  own  minds,  we  infer 
the  moral  attributes  of  him  who  thus  formed  us.  We 
have  certain  impressions  of  justice,  veracity,  compas- 
sion, and  moral  purity,  in  regard  to  our  own  conduct ; 
we  have  a  distinct  approbation  of  these  qualities  in 
others ;  and  we  attach  a  feeling  of  disapprobation  to  the 

Two  inadmissible  suppositions?  Conclusion  to  which  we  must  come '? 
Nature  of  the  evidence  of  the  benevolence  of  God?  Appeal  to  this  ar-,ni- 
ment  in  thp  Scriptures?  State  the  circumstances  and  repeat  the  pass^qe 
How  is  it  that  we  can  inter  the  moral  character  of  God  from  the  nnu-.J  3''n- 
butes  af  man  ? 

14 


158  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  HI 

mfringement  of  them.  By  a  simple  step  of  reasoning, 
wliich  conveys  an  impression  of  absolute  conviction, 
we  conclude,  that  he,  who  formed  us  with  these  feelings, 
possesses,  in  his  own  character,  corresponding  moral 
attributes,  which,  while  they  resemble  in  kind,  must 
infinitely  exceed  in  degree,  those  qualities  in  the  wisest 
and  the  best  of  men.  In  our  actual  observation  of 
mankind,  we  perceive  these  attributes  impaired  in 
their  exercise  by  human  weakness,  distorted  by  human 
passion,  and  impeded  in  their  operation  by  personal 
wants,  personal  feelings,  and  selfish  interests.  But, 
apart  from  such  deteriorating  causes,  we  have  a  cer- 
tain abstract  idea  of  the  full  and  perfect  exercise  of 
those  qualities  ;  and  it  is  in  this  pure  and  perfect  form 
that  we  ascribe  them  to  the  Almighty.  In  him,  they 
can  be  impeded  by  no  weakness,  distorted  by  no  pas- 
sion, and  impaired  in  their  operation  by  no  personal 
interest.  We  therefore  conclude  him  to  be  perfect  in 
the  exercise  of  all  these  moral  attributes,  and  to  take 
the  most  rigid  estimate  of  any  infringement  of  them 
by  man : — this  is  what  we  call  the  holiness  of  God. 
Even  the  man,  who  has  himself  departed  from  moral 
rectitude,  still  feels  a  power  within,  which  points  Avith 
irresistible  force  to  what  is  purity,  and  fixes  upon  him 
a  conviction  that  God  is  pure. 

When  we  view  such  a  Being,  apart  from  any  infe- 
rior creature,  all  seems  harmony  and  consistency;  we 
have  only  to  contemplate  him  as  high  and  holy,  and 
enjoying  perfect  happiness  in  his  own  spotless  attri- 

Actual  condition  of  these  attributes,  at  present  among  mankind.  Doeu 
this  impair  the  argument  ?  In  what  condition  do  we  conceive  of  them  ia 
God  ?  Holiness, — in  what  does  it  consist  ?  In  what  aspect  does  the  chiiiLC- 
Icr  of  tlie  Deity  :i)>pour.  whon  viowod  l.y  itsflf  ? 


PART  III. J  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  150 

bates.  But,  when  we  view  him  in  relation  to  man  in 
a  state  of  moral  discipline,  and,  in  that  state,  tainted 
deeply  with  moral  evil,  a  difficulty  arises  of  an  appal- 
ling magnitude.  There  is  ample  scope  now,  we  per- 
ceive, for  the  exercise  of  his  holiness,  veracity,  and 
justice ;  and  he  appears  in  sublime  and  terrible  majesty, 
in  his  exalted  character  as  a  moral  governor.  But, 
amid  such  a  display,  there  is  an  obvious  interruption 
to  the  exercise  of  compassion,  especially  in  that  es- 
sential department  of  it,  mercy  or  forgiveness.  This 
attribute  may  be  exercised  without  restraint  by  an  in- 
dividual, where  his  own  interests  alone  are  concerned ; 
because  in  him  it  involves  only  a  sacrifice  of  self-love. 
But,  forgiveness  in  a  moral  governor  either  implies  an 
actual  change  of  purpose,  or  supposes  a  former  decision 
to  have  been  made  without  sufficient  knowledge  of, 
or  due  attention  to,  all  the  facts  by  which  he  ought  to 
have  been  influenced;  it  denotes  either  undue  rigor 
in  the  law,  or  ignorance  or  inattention  in  him  who  ad- 
ministers it ;  and  it  may  very  often  mterfere  with  the 
essential  requisites  of  justice.  But,  in  a  moral  go- 
vernor of  infinite  perfection,  there  can  be  neither  igno- 
rance of  facts  nor  change  of  purpose ;  the  requirements 
of  his  justice  must  stand  unshaken;  and  his  law, 
written  on  the  hearts  of  all  his  rational  creatures,  must 
be  upheld,  in  the  face  of  the  universe,  as  holy,  and 
just,  and  good.  Is,  then,  the  exercise  of  mercy  to  be 
excluded  from  our  conception  of  the  divine  character, 

In  what  aspect  does  it  appear  when  viewed  in  connection  with  the  cha. 
racter  and  condition  of  man  ?  What  is  the  nature  of  this  difficulty?  In 
what  cases  maj-  an  individual  forgive  without  restraint  ?  Forgiveness  exer- 
cised by  a  governor  implies  what?  Can  either  of  these  causes  operate  in 
God's  sfovernment  ? 


160  ~^  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [lART    T 

and  is  there  no  forgiveness  witli  (jod  1  The  sound  ..  < 
inductions  of  philosophy,  apphed  to  the  actual  state  of 
man,  brings  us  to  this  momentous  question;  but  the 
highest  efforts  of  human  science  fail  to  answer  it.  It 
is  in  this  our  utmost  need,  that  we  are  met  by  tlie  dic- 
tates of  revelation,  and  are  called  to  humble  the  pride 
of  our  reason  before  that  display  of  the  harmony  and 
integrity  of  the  divine  character.  We  there  learn  the 
truths,  far  beyond  the  inductions  of  human  science. 
and  the  utmost  conceptions  of  human  thought,  that  an 
atonement  is  made,  a  sacrifice  offered;  and  that  the 
exercise  of  forgiveness  is  consistent  with  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  Deity.  Thus,  by  a  process  of  the  mind 
itself,  which  seems  to  present  every  element  of  fair  and 
logical  reasoning,  we  arrive  at  a  full  conviction  of  tin 
necessity,  and  the  moral  probability,  of  that  truth, 
which  forms  the  great  peculiarity  of  the  Christian 
revelation.  More  than  any  other,  in  the  whole  circle 
of  religious  belief,  it  rises  above  the  inductions  of 
science,  while  reason,  in  its  soundest  conclusions,  re- 
cognises its  probability,  and  receives  its  truth ;  and  it 
stands  forth  alone,  simply  proposed  to  our  belief,  and 
offered  to  our  acceptance,  on  that  high  but  peculiar 
evidence  by  which  is  supported  the  testimony  of  God. 
The  truth  of  these  considerations  is  impressed  upon 
us  in  the  strongest  manner,  when  we  turn  our  atten- 
tion to  the  actual  moral  condition  of  mankind.  When 
we  contemplate  man,  as  he  is  displayed  to  us  by  the 
soundest  inductions  of  philosophy, — his  capacity    for 


Great  question  arising  in  this  connection.  Answer  of  human  sciciK-e  ti 
this  question  ?  Answer  of  revelation?  Remarks  upon  this  suhject.  Cor 
rohoratioK  of  these  views? 


PART  III. J  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  161 

distinguishirii,  truth  from  falsehood,  and  e\il  from 
good;  the  feehngs  and  aflections  which  bmd  him  to 
his  fellow-men,  and  the  powers  which  enable  him  to 
rise  to  intercourse  with  God : — when  we  consider  the 
power,  which  sits  among  his  other  principles  and  feel- 
ings, as  a  faithful  monitor  and  guide,  carrying  in  itself 
a  rule  of  rectitude  without  any  other  knowledge,  and 
a  right  to  govern  without  reference  to  any  other  au- 
thority ;  we  behold  a  fabric  complete  and  harmonious 
in  all  its  parts,  and  eminently  worthy  of  its  Almighty 
Maker;  we  behold  an  ample  provision  for  peace,  and 
order,  and  harmony,  in  the  whole  moral  world.  But, 
when  we  compare  with  these  inductions  the  actual 
state  of  man,  as  displayed  to  us  in  the  page  of  history. 
and  in  our  own  daily  observation,  the  conviction  is 
forced  upon  us,  that  some  mighty  change  has  taken 
place  in  this  beauteous  system,  some  marvellous  dis- 
ruption of  its  moral  harmony.  The  manner  in  which 
this  condition  arose,  or  the  origin  of  moral  evil  under 
the  government  of  God,  is  a  question  entirely  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  human  faculties.  It  is  one  of  those, 
however,  on  which  it  is  simply  our  duty  to  keep  in 
mind,  that  our  business  is,  not  with  the  explanation, 
but  with  the  facts;  for,  even  by  the  conclusions  of 
philosophy,  we  are  compelled  to  believe,  that  man  has 
fallen  from  his  high  estate,  and  that  a  pestilence  has 
gone  abroad  over  the  face  of  the  moral  creation. 

In  arriving  at  this  conclusion,  it  is  not  with  the  in- 
ductions of  moral  science  alone,  that  we  compare  or 

Condition  of  man  as  to  his  powers  and  capacities?  His  actual  slr>;p  as 
exhibited  by  history  and  observation  ?  Inference  which  we  necessarily  draw 
trom  this  ?     The  origin  of  moral  evil  ?     Remarks  upon  it  ? 

14# 


162  THE    MORAI.    PRINCTPT.E.  fPART  TIT 

contrast  the  actual  state  of  man.  For  one  bright  ex- 
ample has  appeared  in  our  world,  in  whom  was  ex-  , 
hibited  human  nature  in  its  highest  state  of  order  and  ; 
harmony.  In  regard  to  the  mighty  purposes  which  he  ^ 
came  to  accomplish,  indeed,  philosophy  fails  us,  and  i 
we  are  called  to  submit  the  inductions  of  our  reason  to  : 
the  testimony  of  God.  But,  when  we  contemplate  his  f 
whole  character  purely  as  a  matter  of  historical  truth,  n 
the  conviction  is  forced  upon  us,  that  this  was  the  J 
highest  state  of  man ;  and  the  inductions  of  true  •' 
science  harmonize  with  the  impression  of  the  Roman  ^ 
centurion,  when,  on  witnessing  the  conclusion  of  the  'i 
earthly  sufferings  of  the  Messiah,  he  exclaimed,  "  Truly  '< 
this  was  the  Son  of  God."  3 

When  we  endeavor  to  trace  the  manner,  in  which  - 
mankind  have  departed  so  widely  from  this  high  pat-  1 
tern,  we  arrive  at  moral  phenomena  of  which  we  cam^ 
offer  no  explanation.     But  an  inquiry  of  much  greater 
importance  is  to  mark  the  process  by  which,  in  indi- 
vidual instances,  conscience  ceases  to  be  the  regulating 
principle  of  the  character ;  and  this  is  a  simple  and 
legitimate  object  of  philosophical  observation.     There 
cannot,  indeed,    be  an  inquiry  of  more   intense   and 
solemn  interest,  than  to  trace  the  chain  of  sequences- 
which  has  been  established  in  the  mind  of  man  as  ai' 
moral  being.     We  can  view  it  only  as  a  matter  of  fact,  / 
without  being  able  to  refer  it  to  any  other  principle 
than  the  will  of  Him  who  framed   us;  but  the  facts v 

What  standard  of  comparison  have  we  in  respect  to  the  moral  capacities ' 
of  man?  Can  human  science  explain  the  ohject  of  the  mission  of  that 
Savior?  Can  ve  explain  how  mankind  have  departed  so  widely  from  that 
right  stauds.-d  7     More  important  inquiry. 


PART  III.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE,  163 

which  are  before  us  claim  the  serious  attention  of 
e\ery  man,  who  would  cultivate  that  most  important 
of  all  pursuits,  the  knowledge  of  his  own  moral  con- 
dition. The  fact  to  which  I  chiefly  allude  is  a  certain 
relation,  formerly  referred  to,  between  the  truths  which 
are  calculated  to  act  upon  us  as  moral  causes,  and  the 
mental  emotions  which  ought  to  result  from  them ;  and 
between  these  emotions  and  a  certain  conduct  which 
they  tend  to  produce.  If  the  due  harmony  between 
these  be  carefully  cultivated,  the  result  is  a  sound 
moral  condition ;  but  by  every  instance  in  which  this 
harmony  is  violated,  a  morbid  influence  is  introduced, 
which  gains  strength  in  each  succeeding  volition,  and 
carries  disorder  through  the  moral  economy.  We  have 
formerly  illustrated  this  important  moral  process,  by 
the  relation  between  the  emotion  of  compassion,  and 
the  conduct  which  ought  to  arise  from  it.  If  this  ten- 
dency of  the  emotion  be  diligently  cultivated,  the  result 
is  the  habit  of  active  benevolence ;  but,  if  the  emotion 
be  violated,  its  influence  is  progressively  diminished, 
and  a  character  is  produced  of  cold  and  barren  selfish- 
ness. 

A  similar  chain  of  sequences  is  to  be  observed  re- 
specting the  operation  of  those  great  truths,  which, 
under  the  regulating  power  of  conscience,  are  calcu- 
lated to  act  as  moral  causes  in  our  mental  economy ; 
we  may  take,  for  example,  the  truths  relating  to  the 
character  and  perfections  of  the  Deity,  and  the  influ- 
ence which  these  ought  to  produce  upon  every  rational 

Means  by  which  a  sound  moral  condition  is  attained?  Consequences  of 
Tiolatmg  this  harmony?  Example.  Example  of  a  great  moral  truth  which 
ought  to  have  an  influence  on  human  character? 


104  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  fll. 

being.  We  have  seen  the  knowledge  which  we  derive 
from  the  light  of  nature  respecting  the  attributes  of 
God,  when,  from  his  works  aromid  us,  we  discover 
him  as  a  being  of  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness ;  and  when,  from  the  moral  impressions  of  our  own 
minds,  we  infer  his  perfections  as  a  moral  Governor  of 
infinite  holiness,  justice  and  truth.  By  a  proper  direc- 
lioii  of  the  mind  to  the  truths  which  are  thus  conveyed 
to  us  respecting  the  Deity,  there  would  naturally  arise 
a  corresponding  chain  of  emotions  of  which  he  is  the 
object.  These  are  a  sense  of  veneration  towards  him, 
as  infinitely  great,  wise,  and  powerful, — of  love  and 
thankfulness,  as  infinitely  good, — and  of  habitual  re- 
gard to  his  authority  and  will,  as  a  moral  governor  of 
purity  and  justice,  and  as  requiring  a  corresponding 
character  in  all  his  creatures.  A  close  and  constant 
relation  ought  to  be  preserved  between  these  truths 
and  these  emotions,  and  on  this  depends  the  moral 
harmony  of  the  mind.  The  preservation  of  this  har- 
mony, again,  is  intimately  connected  with  a  mental 
process  which  every  man  feels  to  be  voluntary,  or  in 
his  power  to  perform,  if  he  wills.  It  consists  in  a  care- 
ful direction  of  the  mind  to  such  truths,  so  as  to  enable 
them  to  act  as  moral  causes  in  the  mental  economy. 
By  the  established  order  of  moral  sequences,  the  emo- 
tions naturally  follow;  these  are  then  to  be  cherished 
with  satisfaction  and  reverence ;  and  a  corresponding, 
influence  upon  the  character  and  conduct  is  the  farthen 
consequence.     But  the  first  step  in  this  important  pro- 


What  eflect  is  this  truth  calculated  to  produce  ?  Name  some  of  the  emo- 
tions it  tends  to  awaken.  Means  of  securing  a  proper  influence  ior  ihcs* 
truths  ? 


ART  III.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  165 

jess  may  be  neglected ; — the  mind  may  not  be  directed 
with  due  care  to  the  truths  whicii  thus  claim  its  high- 
est regard  ;  and  the  natural  result  is  a  corresponding 
deficiency  in  the  emotions  and  conduct  which  ought  to 
flow  from  them.  This  will  be  the  case  in  a  still  higher 
degree,  if  there  has  been  formed  any  actual  derange- 
ment of  the  moral  condition, — if  deeds  have  been  com- 
mitted, or  even  desires  cherished,  and  mental  habits 
acquired,  by  which  the  indications  of  conscience  have 
been  violated.  The  moral  harmony  of  the  mind  is 
then  lost,  and,  however  slight  may  be  the  first  impres- 
sion, a  morbid  influence  has  begun  to  operate  in  the 
mental  economy,  which  tends  gradually  to  gain  strength, 
until  it  becomes  a  ruling  principle  in  the  whole  charac- 
ter. The  truths  connected  with  the  divine  perfections 
are  now  neither  invited  nor  cherished,  but  are  felt  to 
be  intruders  which  disturb  the  mental  tranquillity. 
The  attention  ceases  to  be  directed  to  them,  and  the 
corresponding  emotions  vanish  from  the  mind.  Such 
appears  to  be  the  moral  history  of  those,  who,  in  the 
striking  language  of  the  sacred  writings,  '^  do  not  like 
to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge." 

When  the  harmony  of  the  mind  has  been  impaired 
to  this  extent,  another  mental  condition  arises,  accord- 
ing to  the  wondrous  system  of  moral  sequences.  This 
consists  in  a  distortion  of  the  understanding  itself,  re- 
garding the  first  great  principles  of  moral  truth.  For, 
ci  fearless  contemplation  of  the  truth,  respecting  the 
divine   perfections,   having  become   inconsistent   with 

Way  of  preventing  this  influence  ?  Consequences.  Manner  in  which  the 
truths  of  revelation  are  regarded  by  a  mind  in  such  a  state.  Effect  upon  the 
understanding  produced  by  these  causes. 


166  THE    MORAL  PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IIL 

the  moral  condition  of  the  mind,  there  next  arises  a 
desire  to  discover  a  view  of  them  more  m  accordance 
with  its  own  feehngs.  I'his  is  followed,  in  dne  course, 
by  a  corresponding  train  of  its  own  speculations  ;  and 
these,  by  a  mind  so  prepared,  are  received  as  truth. 
The  inventions  of  the  mind  itself  thus  become  the  regu- 
lating principles  of  its  emotions,  and  this  mental  pro- 
cess, advancing  from  step  to  step,  terminates  in  mora) 
degradation  and  anarchy. 

Nothing  can  be  more  striking  than  tlie  manner  in 
which  these  great  principles  of  ethical  science  are  laid 
down  in  the  sacred  writings ; — "  the  invisible  things  of 
him  from  the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen, 
being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his 
eternal  power  and  Godhead,  so  that  they  are  without 
excuse :  Because  that,  when  they  knew  God,  they 
glorified  him  not  as  God,  neither  were  thankful ;  but 
became  vain  in  their  imaginations,  and  their  foolish 
heart  was  darkened.  Professing  themselves  to  be  wise, 
they  became  fools ;  and  changed  the  glory  of  the  un 
corruptible  God  into  an  image  made  like  to  corruptible 
man,  and  to  birds,  and  four-footed  beasts,  and  creeping 
things." — "And  even  as  they  did  not  hke  to  retain 
God  in  their  knowledge,  God  gave  them  over  to  a  re- 
probate mind,  to  do  those  things  which  are  not  con- 
venient." The  various  steps,  in  this  course  of  moral 
degradation,  are  here  represented  as  a  judicial  infliction 
by  the  Deity.  But  this  solemn  view  of  the  subject  is 
in  no  degree  inconsistent  with  the  principle,   that  it 

What,  in  such  a  case,  become,  at  last,  the  regulating  principles  of  the 
mind  ?  Termination  of  the  process.  Repeat  the  passage  of  Scripture 
qiioterl  in  this  connection.  Where  is  this  passage  found?  How  are  th« 
rarioiis  steps  reprosentod  iii  this  :iiissage  '? 


PART  III.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  167 

takes  place  according  to  a  chain  of  sequences  existing 
in  the  mind  itself.  For  the  Almighty  One,  who  is  said 
to  inflict  as  a  judgment  thv3  state  of  moral  ruin,  is  the 
same  who  established  it  as  the  uniform  result  of  a  pro- 
cess in  the  mental  economy,  to  be  traced  in  the  history 
of  every  man  who  has  followed  the  downward  coarse 
which  led  him  astray  from  virtue. 

To  the  principles  which  have  now  been  stated,  we 
are  also  to  refer  a  point  in  the  philosophy  of  human 
nature  which  presents  a  subject  of  most  interesting  re- 
flection. I  allude  to  the  fact,  that  the  great  truths  of 
religious  belief  are  so  often  rejected,  by  men  who  have 
acquired  a  reputation  for  exalted  powers  of  understand- 
ing, in  other  departments  of  intellectual  inquiry.  The 
fact  is  one  of  intense  interest;  and  we  can  scarcely 
wonder  that  superficial  observers  should  have  deduced 
from  it  an  impression  that  it  implies  something  defec- 
tive in  the  evidence  by  which  these  truths  are  proposed 
to  our  reception.  But  the  conclusion  is  entirely  un- 
warranted ;  and  the  important  principle  cannot  be  too 
often  repeated,  that  the  attainment  of  truth  in  moral 
inquiries  is  essentially  connected  with  the  moral  condi- 
tion of  the  inquirer.  On  this  depends  the  anxious  care 
with  which  he  has  directed  his  mind  to  the  high  pur- 
suit, under  a  deep  and  solemn  feeling  of  its  supreme 
importance.  On  this  depends  the  sincere  and  humble 
and  candid  love  of  truth  with  which  he  has  conducted 
it,  apart  alike  from  prejudice  and  frivolity.  For  with- 
out these  essential  elements  of  character,  the  most  ex- 
Remarks  of  the  author  on  this  subject.  Extraordinary  fact  brought  foi- 
ward  ij  this  connection  ?  Inference  which  has  sometimes  been  deduced 
from  this  ?  Is  this  conclusion  warrantable  ?  Upon  what  does  the  attain 
iftietit  of  moral  truth  depend,  besides  sufficiency  <  f  evidence  7 


168  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III 

alted  intellect  may  fail  of  reaching  the  truth;  the 
most  acute  understanding  may  onl}^  wander  into  delu- 
sion and  falsehood. 

Before  concluding  this  subject,  there  is  another  point 
which  deserves  to  be  alluded  to ; — namely,  the  influ- 
ence produced  upon  all  our  moral  judgments  and  de- 
cisions by  Attention.     This  important  process  of  the 
mind  we  have  had  occasion  to  mention  in  various  parts 
of  our  inquiry.     It  consists,  as  we  have  seen,  in  direct- 
ing the  thoughts,  calmly  and  deliberately,  to  all  the 
facts  and  considerations  by  which  we  ought  to  be  in- 
fluenced  in   the  particular  case   which  is  under  our 
view ;    and  it  should  be  accompanied  by  an  anxious 
and  sincere  desire  to  be  guided,  both  in  our  opinions 
and  conduct,  by  the  true  and  relative  tendency  of  each 
of  them.     It  is  a  voluntary  process  of  the  mind  which 
every  man  has  the  power  to  perform  ;  and,  on  the  de--. 
gree  in  which  it  is  habitually  exercised,  depend  somet, 
of  the  great  difljerences  between  one  man  and  another i 
in    their  moral  condition.     We   have  repeatedly  had' 
occasion  to  mention  that  morbid  state  of  the  mind,  in  ^ 
which  moral  causes  seem  to  have  lost  their  proper  in- 
fluence, both  on  the  volitions  of  the  will,  and  even  on 
the  conclusions  of  the  judgment :    but  it  is   a  truth 
which  cannot  be  too  often  referred  to,  how  much  thiss^ 
condition  is  influenced  by  the  mental  process  which  wefg 
are  now  considering.     It  originates,  indeed,  in  somee. 
degree  of  that  distortion  of  moral  feeling,  in  conse-^ 
quence   of   which  the   inchnations   wander  from  the^^ 

In  what  way  does  the  moral  condition  of  the  inquirer  affect  his  reception  i 
of  thp  truth  ?     What  other  great  faculty  influences  our  moral  judgments? 
In  whttt  duos  attention  consist?     Is  it  voluntary  or  involuntary  ?     Remarkl  i^ 
Mpon  its  influence  in  the  formation  of  character. 


PART  III.]  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  169 

Strict  path  of  rectitude ;  but  the  primary  effect  of  this 
loss  of  mental  harmony,  and  that  by  which  it  is  per- 
petuated, appears  to  be  chiefly  a  habitual  misdirection 
of  the  attention,  or  a  total  want  of  consideration  of 
the  truths  and  motives,  by  which  the  moral  judgments 
and  decisions  ought  to  be  influenced.  Apart  from  this 
condition  of  the  mind,  indeed,  there  is  reason  to  believe, 
that  the  actual  differences  in  moral  judgment  are  in  dif- 
ferent men  less  than  we  are  apt  to  imagine.  "  Let  any 
honest  man,"  says  Butler,  ''before  he  engages  in  any 
course  of  action,  ask  himself, — is  this  I  am  going  to  do 
right,  or  is  it  wrong, — is  it  good,  or  is  it  evil '?  I  do  not 
in  the  least  doubt  but  that  these  questions  would  be 
answered  agreeably  to  truth  and  virtue,  by  almost  any 
fair  man  in  almost  any  circumstances."  It  is  in  a 
great  measure  from  the  want  of  this  simple  exercise  of 
attention,  or  of  what  in  common  language  we  call  calm 
reflection,  that  men  are  led  away,  by  passion,  preju- 
dice, and  distorted  moral  habits,  into  courses  of  action 
which  their  own  sober  judgment  would  condemn; 
and,  when  a  man,  who  has  thus  departed  from  recti- 
tude, begins  to  retrace  his  way,  the  first  great  point  is 
that  where  he  pauses  in  his  downward  career,  and 
seriously  proposes  to  himself  the  question,  whether  the 
course  he  has  followed  be  worthy  of  a  moral  being.  I 
allude  not  here  to  the  means  by  which  a  man  is  led  to 
take  this  momentous  step  in  his  moral  history,  but 
only  to  the  mental  process  of  which  it  consists.  It  is 
primarily  nothing  more  than  an  exercise  of  attention, 

Effects  produced  by  a  habitual  misdirection  of  the  attention  ?  Influence 
of  this  faculty  in  respect  to  the  differences  of  moral  judgment  among  men? 
Sulistance  of  the  quotation  from  Butler?  Effects  of  a  want  of  calm  refler- 
tMn  ?    Great  crisis  in  a  man's  moral  history  ? 

15 


170  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  HI       ' 

calmly  and  deliberately  directed  to  the  truths  and  con- 
siderations by  which  his  moral  decisions  onght  to  be    : 
influenced;  but,  when  a  man  has  once  been  brought 
into  this  attitude  of  deep  and   serious   thought,  con- 
science comes  to  bear  its  part  in  the  solemn  process; 
and  the  inquirer  is  likely  to  arrive  at  just  conclusions 
on  those  great  questions  of  which  he  feels  the  impor- 
tance to  his  moral  condition.  i 
It  is  on  the  principles  now  referred  to,  that,  accord-   ' 
ding  to  a  doctrine  which  has  been  often  and  keenly   '■ 
controverted,  we  hold  a  man  to  be  responsible  for  his   - 
belief.     The  state  of  mind  which  constitutes  belief  is,   > 
indeed,  one  over  which  the  will  has  no  direct  power. 
But  belief  depends  upon  evidence ;   the  result  of  even   • 
the  best  evidence  is  entirely  dependent  on  attention:   ! 
and   attention   is  a  voluntary  intellectual   state   over 
which  we  have  a  direct  and  absolute  control.     As  it  is,   r 
therefore,  by  prolonged  and  continued  attention  that  • 
evidence  produces  belief,  a  man  may  incur  the  deepest 
guilt  by  his  disbelief  of  truths  which  he  has  failed  to 
examine  with   the  care  which  is  due  to  them.     This  ^ 
exercise  is  entirely  under  the  control  of  the  will ;   but 
the  will  to  exercise  it  respecting  moral  truth  is  closely  ' 
connected  with  the  love  of  that  truth ;    and  this  is  in-  i 
timately  dependent  on  the  state  of  moral  feeling  of  thtf  •* 
mind.     It  is  thus  that  a  man's  moral  condition  influ-  ^ 
ences  the  conclusions  of  his  judgment ;    and  it  is  thus,  ^ 
that,  on  the  great  questions  of  moral  truth,  there  may  '^ 

In  what  does  this  mental  slate  consist  ?     What  is  generally  the  result  of  "^ 
it  ?     Inference  from  these  principles  in  regard  to  responsibility  for  belief?  1 
Has  the  will  a  direct  power  over  belief?     Has  it  an  indirect  power?     L|*' 
what  way  ?    Inference  from  tins?     How  is  it  tnen  that  a  man's  moral  con- 
dition influences  his  belief? 


PART  III.]  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  171 

be  guilt  attached  to  a  process  of  the  understanding, 
while  there  is  both  guilt  and  moral  degradation  in  that 
mental  condition  from  which  it  springs. 

A   similar  relation  exists,  as   was  formerly  stated, 
between  all  our  moral  emotions,  and  processes  which 
are  felt  to  be  entirely  voluntary.     These  emotions  are, 
properly  speaking,  not  the  objects  of  volition,  nor  do 
they  arise  directly  at  our  bidding;  but,   according  to 
the  constitution  of  the  mind,  they  are  the  natural  or 
established  result  of  certain  intellectual  processes,  and 
in  some  sense,  even  of  bodily  actions,  both  of  whicl 
are  entirely  voluntary.     The  emotions  of  compassioi 
and  benevolence,  for  example,  are  the  natural  result 
of  the  sight  or  even  the  description  of  scenes  of  distress 
and  the  primary  steps  in  this  process  are  entirely  with 
in  our 'power  to  perform,  if  we  will.     We  can  visit  the 
afflicted  family,  listen  to  their  tale  of  distress,  and  con- 
sider their  circumstances,    that  is,  give  our  attention 
to  them  in  such  a  manner  that  the  natural  and  proper 
effect  may  be  produced  upon  our  moral  feelings.     We 
can  give  the  same  kind  of  attention,  and  with  a  similar 
result,  to   a  case  which   is   only  described   to   us  by 
another;  or  we  may  neglect  all  this  mental  process. 
Engrossed  with  the  business  or  the  frivolities  of  life, 
we  may  keep  ourselves  at  a  distance  from  the  persons 
and  the  scenes  that  might  operate  in  this  manner  on 

I  our  moral  feelmgs ;  we  may  refuse  to  listen  to  the  tale 
of  sorrow,  or,  if  compelled  to  hfar  it,  we  may  give  it 
little  attention  and  no  consideration.     The  moral  feel- 
Are  all  our  moral  emotions  thus  dependent  upon  voluntarj*  efforts  7     Ar« 

I  they  directly  dependent  upon  the  will  7  Are  they  indirectly  7  Example  *? 
Process  by  which  we  can  increase  the  power  of  these  emotions  ?  Process  by 
which  we  can  diminish  it  7 


172  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  ITT 

ing  does  not  follow,  and  this  course,  after  a  certain 
repetition,  terminates  in  confirmed  and  barren  selfish- 
ness. We  see  many  instances  in  which  we  distinctly 
recognise  this  course  of  mental  or  moral  sequence.  If, 
in  regard  to  a  particular  case  of  distress,  for  example, 
we  have  come  to  a  deliberate  conviction  of  the  worth- 
lessness  of  the  individual,  and  have  determined  to  with- 
hold our  aid,  we  refuse  to  see  him,  and  we  decline 
hearing  from  another  any  thing  more  of  his  history ; 
we  say,  we  have  made  up  our  miud  not  to  allow  our 
compassion  to  be  any  more  worked  upon  in  his  favor. 
We  thus  recognise  the  natural  relation  between  the 
sight  or  even  the  description  of  distress,  and  the  pro- 
duction of  certain  feelings  in  ourselves ;  and  we  re- 
cognise also  the  legitimate  means  for  preventing  this 
influence  in  certain  cases,  in  which,  by  a  deliberate  acti 
of  judgment,  we  have  determined  against  having  these 
feelings  excited.  If,  notwithstanding  this  determina- 
tion, we  happen  to  be  brought  within  the  influence  oft 
the  distress  which  we  wished  to  avoid,  we  consider 
this  as  a  sufficient  ground  for  acting,  in  the  instance, 
against  our  sober  judgment.  We  had  determined 
against  it,  we  say,  but  what  can  you  do  when  you  see 
people  starving?  We  thus  recognise  as  legitimate  that 
process  by  which,  in  certain  cases,  we  keep  ourselves' 
beyond  this  influence ;  but  we  attach  no  feeling  of  ap-) 
probation  to  the  moral  condition  of  him  who,  being; 
subjected  to  the  influence,  can  resist  it ;  that  is,  whO' 
can   really  come  into  contact  with  distress,  and  shuli 

Can  we  produce  a  permaaent  change  in  the  character  in  this  way?  Com  r 
mon  phraseology  illustrative  of  this  principle?  What  truth  is  recognised  by) 
ihis  phraseology?  Is  the  con  rol  of  the  will  direct  in  such  a  case  ?  Supu"  ' 
pjtion  made  to  illustrate  this  ? 


PART  III.]  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  178 

his  heart  against  it.  And  even  with  regard  to  the 
course  which  we  here  recognise  as  legtimate,  much 
caution  is  required,  before  we  allow  a  process  of  the 
judgment  to  interfere  with  the  natural  and  healthy- 
course  of  the  moral  feelings.  If  the  mterference  arises, 
not  from  a  sound  process  of  the  understanding,  but 
from  a  course  in  which  selfishness  bears  a  considerable 
part,  an  injurious  influence  upon  the  moral  condition 
of  the  mind  is  the  necessary  consequence.  We  thus 
perceive  that,  in  the  chain  of  sequences  relating  to  the 
benevolent  feelings,  there  are  three  distinct  steps,  two 
of  which  are  entirely  under  the  control  of  the  will.  A 
man  has  it  entirely  in  his  power  to  place  himself  in 
contact  with  objects  of  distress,  and  to  follow  out  the 
call  of  duty  in  considering  their  circumstances,  and 
entering  into  their  feelings.  The  natural  result  is  a 
train  of  emotions  which  arise  in  his  own  mind,  prompt- 
ing him  to  a  particular  line  of  conduct.  To  act  upon 
these  emotions  is  again  under  the  power  of  his  will ; 
and  if  the  whole  of  this  chain  of  sequences  be  duly  fol- 
lowed, the  result  is  a  sound  condition  of  this  part  of 
the  moral  economy.  If  either  of  the  voluntary  steps 
be  neglected  or  violated,  the  mental  harmony  is  lost, 
and  a  habit  is  formed  of  unfeeling  selfishness. 

The  principle,  which  has  thus  been  illustrated  by 
the  benevolent  affections,  is  equally  true  of  our  other 
moral  emotions.  These  emotions  are  closely  connect- 
ed with  certain  truths,  which  are  calculated  to  give 

Caution  suggested  here  ?  How  many  distinct  steps  are  named  in  relation 
to  benevolent  feeling  ?  First  step  ?  Second  step  ?  Third  step  ?  How 
many  of  these  are  voluntary  ?  Effect  of  neglecting  either  of  these  ?  Arc 
these  principles  applicable  to  the  other  mor£d  emotions  ?  Their  connectioa 
frith  the  truths  which  give  rise  to  them? 

15^ 


174  TflK    MORAT,    PPJNOIPI,E.  [PAHT  III 

rise  to  tljcin,  according  to  the  constitution  of  our  moral 
economy.  Now,  the  careful  acquisition  of  the  kn(.w- 
hidg^,  of  these  truths,  and  a  serious  direction  of  the  at- 
tention to  their  tendencies,  are  intellectual  processes 
which  are  as  much  under  the  power  of  our  will,  as  are 
the  acts  of  visiting  and  giving  attention  to  scenes  of 
distress ;  and  the  due  cultivation  of  them  involves  an 
equa4  degree  of  moral  responsibility.  This  again  is 
connecteu  with  the  remarkable  power  which  we  possess 
over  the  succession  of  our  thoughts.  We  can  direct 
the  mind  into  a  particular  train ;  we  can  continue  it 
and  dwell  upon  it  with  calm  and  deliberate  attention, 
so  that  the  truths,  which  it  brings  before  us,  may  pro- 
duce their  natural  and  proper  effect  on  our  moral  feel- 
higs.  The  emotions  thus  excited  lead  to  a  certain  line 
of  conduct,  which  also  is  voluntary ;  and  on  the  due 
cultivation  of  this  chain  of  sequences  depends  a  healthy 
moral  condition.  But  we  may  neglect  those  parts  of 
the  sequence  which  are  under  the  control  of  our  will. 
VV'e  may  abstain  from  directing  our  attention  to  such 
truths;  we  may  view  them  in  a  slighit,  frivolous,  or 
distorted  manner,  or  we  may  dismiss  them  altogether ; 
and  if  any  degree  of  the  emotions  should  be  excited, 
we  may  make  no  effort  towards  the  cultivation  of  the 
conduct  to  which  they  would  lead  us.  The  due  cul- 
tivation of  this  power  over  the  succession  of  our 
thoughts,  is  that  which  constitutes  one  of  the  great  dif- 
ferences between  one  man  and  another,  both  as  intel- 
lectual and  moral  beings;  and,  though  correct  moral 
emotions  are  not  properly  the  objects  of  volition,   it  is 

The  way  in  which  we  have  power  over  ihem  ?    In  what  way  can  we  pre- 
«ut  such  emotions  rising  in  the  miud  7 


PART  III.]  INFLUENCE    OF    ATTENTION.  175 

thus  that  a  man  may  incur  the  deepest  moral  guiU  in 
the  want  of  them. 

The  subject  also  leads  to  conclusions  of  the  greatest 
miportance  respecting  the  principles  on  which  v/e  ought 
10  conduct  religious  instruction,  particularly  in  regard 
to  the  cultivation  of  religious  emotions.  It  reminds  us 
of  the  important  law  of  our  nature,  that  all  true  culti- 
vation of  religious  emotion  must  be  founded  upon  a 
sound  culture  of  the  understanding  in  the  knowledge 
of  religious  truth,  and  a  careful  direction  of  the  powers 
of  reasoning  and  judging,  both  to  its  evidences  and  its 
tendencies.  AH  impulse  that  does  not  arise  in  this 
manner  can  be  nothing  more  than  an  artificial  excite- 
ment of  feeling,  widely  different  from  the  emotion  of 
a  regulated  mind.  Such  a  system  generates  wild 
enthusiasm ;  and  the  principle  is  of  peculiar  and  es- 
sential importance  in  the  education  of  the  young.  In 
their  susceptible  minds  religious  emotion  is  easily  pro- 
duced, and,  by  a  particular  management,  may  be  fos- 
tered for  a  time.  But  those  who  have  been  trained  in 
this  manner  are  little  qualified  to  meet  the  collisions  of 
active  life,  and  we  need  not  wonder  if  they  should 
make  shipwreck  of  a  faith  which  has  not  been  founded 
in  knowledge. 


Before  leaving  the  subject  of  the    Moral  Principle, 

there  are  two  points  closely  connected  with  it  which 

: ^_ ^ 

Deductioa  from  these  principles  in  respect  to  the  guilt  of  wrong  emotions  7 
Remarks  on  the  bearing  of  this  subject  upon  religious  instruction  ?  Nature 
o5  the  impulses  which  do  not  originate  in  the  truth  ?  Trait  of  mind  produced 
oy  them  ? 


176  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III. 

remain  to  be  noticed.  The  one  relates  to  the  origin 
and  immutabihty  of  moral  distinctions,  and,  in  con- 
nection with  this,  a  class  of  speculations  which  hold  a 
conspicuous  place  in  the  history  of  ethical  science, 
under  the  name  of  Theories  of  Morals.  The  othei 
refers  to  a  certain  harmony  or  principle  of  arrange- 
ment, which  the  different  moral  feelings  ought  to  pre- 
serve towards  each  other  in  a  well-regulated  mind. 


^  1.— OF    THE    ORIGIN    AND    IMMUTABILITY 

OF    MORAL    DISTINCTIONS,  AND 

THEORIES    OF    MORALS. 

In  treating  of  the  moral  powers,  I  have  considered 
various  feelings  as  distinct  parts  of  our  constitution, 
each  intended  to  answer  a  specific  purpose  in  the  pre- 
sent scene  of  moral  discipline.  I  am  aware  of  an 
objection  that  may  be  urged  against  this  mode  of  view- 
ing the  subject, — namely,  that  it  is  an  unnecessary 
multiplication  of  original  principles.  I  am  not  inclined 
to  dispute  respecting  the  term,  ot^iginal  principles.  I 
only  contend  for  the  fact,  that  there  are  certain  feelings 
or  propensities  which  are  found  to  operate  in  the  whole 
of  mankind ;  and,  with  regard  to  these,  I  consider  our 
object  to  be,  simply  to  view  man  as  he  is.  In  his 
physical  relations,  we  find  him  endowed  with  a  variety 

Name  the  two  points  which  the  author  proceeds  to  notice  in  conclusion. 
How  has  the  author  considered  the  various  susceptibilities  of  the  heart  iu 
treatinsT  of  the  moral  powers  ?  Objections  anticipated  ?  Does  he  insist  od 
calling  these  feelings  "  original  principles  ?" 


SEC.  I.J  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  177 

of  senses,  and  a  great  variety  of  bodily  functions, 
each  adapted  to  its  proper  purpose,  and  all  distinct 
from  each  other ;  and  the  physiologist  is  content  to 
view  them  simply  as  they  are.  Were  he  to  exercise 
his  ingenuity  upon  them,  he  might  contend  Avith  much 
plausibility,  that  it  is  highly  incorrect  to  speak  of  five 
distinct  and  separate  senses;  for  that  they  are  all 
merely  modifications  of  sensation,  differing  only  in  the 
various  kinds  of  the  external  impression.  Thus,  what 
is  vulgarly  called  sight  is  the  simple  sensation  of  light, 
and  hearing  is  merely  the  sensation  of  sound.  This 
would  be  all  very  true,  but  it  does  not  appear  to 
elucidate  the  subject;  nor,  by  any  ingenuity  of  such 
speculation,  could  we  be  enabled  to  know  more  con- 
cerning these  senses  than  when  we  called  them  sight 
and  hearing.  In  the  same  manner  it  Avould  appear, 
that  the  course  of  inquiry,  respecting  our  moral  feel- 
ings, is  simply  to  observe  what  these  feelings  really 
are,  and  what  are  their  obvious  tendencies.  When  we 
have  done  so  on  adequate  foundation,  I  conceive  we 
have  every  reason  for  considering  them  as  principles 
implanted  in  us  by  the  Creator,  for  guidance  in  our 
present  relations  ;  and,  like  the  functions  of  our  bodies, 
so  the  powers  and  feelings  of  our  mind  show  a  won- 
derful adaptation  and  design,  worthy  of  their  Omnipo- 
tent Cause.  But,  we  can  know  nothing  of  them 
beyond  the  facts,  and  nothing  is  to  be  gained  by  any 
attempt,  however   ingenious,    to   simplify   or  explain 

Analogy  drawn  from  the  phj'sical  powers  of  man,  to  illustrate  this  subject? 
Corresponding  objection  which  might  be  made  to  the  classification  of  the 
senses  ?  True  oltject  of  inquiries  respecting  our  moral  feelings  ?  True  ex- 
lent  and  limit  of  our  knowledge  ?  Do  these  principles  apply  to  the  corpo- 
real as  well  as  to  the  moral  powers  ? 


178  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [pART  IIU. 

them.  We  have  formerly  had  occasion  to  aUude  toi 
various  speculations,  of  a  similar  character,  respecting 
the  powers  of  perception  and  simple  intellect,  all  of 
which  have  now  given  way  before  the  general  admis- 
sion of  the  truth,  that,  on  the  questions  to  which  they 
refer,  no  human  sagacity  can  carry  us  one  step  beyond 
the  simple  knowledge  of  the  facts. 

It  will  probably  be  admitted,  that  there  have  been 
many  similar  unprofitable  speculations  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  moral  feelings  ;  and  that  these  speculations, 
instead  of  throwing  any  light  upon  the  subject,  have 
tended  rather  to  withdraw  the  attention  of  inquirers 
from  the  questions  of  deep  and  serious  importance 
connected  with  the  investigation.  Among  these,  per- 
haps, we  may  reckon  some  of  the  doctrines  which 
hold  a  prominent  place  in  the  history  of  this  branch 
of  science,  under  the  name  of  Theories  of  Morals, 
These  doctrines  agree  in  admitting  the  fact,  that  there 
are  among  mankind  certain  notions  respecting  right 
and  wrong,  moral  and  immoral  actions;  and  they 
then  profess  to  account  for  these  impressions,  or  to 
explain  how  men  come  to  think  one  action  right  and 
another  wrong.  A  brief  view  of  these  theories  may 
properly  belong  to  an  outline  of  this  department  of 
science. 

In  contemplating  the  conduct  of  men  as  placed  in 
certain  relations  towards  each  other,  we  perceive  some 
actions  which  we  pronounce  to  be  right,  and  others 
wliich  we   pronounce  to   be  wrong.     In  forming  our 

Useless  speculations  on  these  subjects  7  Tendency  of  such  speculations  1 
One  important  class  of  such  speculations  ?  Truth  admitted  hy  all  these  theo- 
ries?    Object  which  they  attempt  to  accomplish? 


SEC.  I.l  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  179 

opinion  of  them  in  this  manner,  we  refer  to  the  mten- 
tions  of  the  actor,  and,  if  we  are  satisfied  that  he  really 
intended  v\4iat  we  see  to  be  the  elfect  or  the  tendency 
of  his  conduct,  or  even  that  he  purposed  something 
which  he  was  prevented  from  accompUshing,  we  view 
him  with  feeUngs  of  moral  approbation  or  disapproba- 
tion, or,  in  other  words,  apply  to  him  the  award  of 
praise  or  blame.  Such  is  our  simple  idea  of  virtue  or 
vice,  as  applied  either  to  the  act  or  the  agent.  We  have 
a  convictioji  that  there  is  a  line  of  conduct  to  which 
ourselves  and  others  are  bound  by  a  certain  kind  of 
obligation  :  a  departure  from  this  constitutes  moral 
demerit  or  vice ;  a  correct  observance  of  it  constitutes 
virtue. 

This  appears  to  be  our  primary  impression  of  vice 
and  virtue.  The  next  question  is,  what  is  the  origin 
of  the  impression,  or  on  what  ground  is  it,  that  we 
conclude  certain  actions  to  be  right  and  others  wrong? 
Is  it  merely  from  a  view  of  their  consequences  to  our- 
selves or  others?  or  do  we  proceed  upon  an  absolute 
conviction  of  certain  conduct  being  right,  and  certain 
other  wrong,  without  carrying  the  mind  farther  than 
the  simple  act,  or  the  simple  intention  of  the  actor, 
without  any  consideration  of  the  eflfects  or  the  tenden- 
cies of  the  action  ?  This  is  the  question  which  has  been 
so  keenly  agitated  in  the  speculations  of  ethical  sci- 
ence, namely,  respecting  the  origin  and  nature  of  moral 
distinctions.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  contended,  that 
these  moral  impressions  are  in  themselves  immutable, 

In  looking  at  human  actions  to  what  do  we  at  first  refer,  to  ascertain  their 
moral  character  ?  Nature  of  the  simple  idea  of  virtue  or  vice  ?  Q.uestion 
arising  respecting  it  ?  Two  ways  m  which  the  idea  of  right  and  wrong  ma" 
unse? 


180  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IIL 

and  that  an  absolute  conviction  of  their  immntabihty 
is  fixed  upon  us  in  that  part  of  our  constitution  which 
we  call  conscience  ;  in  other  words,  there  is  a  certain 
conduct  to  which  we  are  bound  by  a  feeling  of  obliga-  ! 
tion,  apart  from  all  other  considerations  whatever; 
and  we  have  an  impression  that  a  departure  from  this 
in  ourselves  or  others  constitutes  vice.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  maintained,  that  these  distinctions  are  en- 
tirely arbitrary,  or  arise  out  of  circumstances,  so  that 
what  is  vice  in  one  case  may  be  virtue  in  another. 
Those  who  have  adopted  the  latter  hypothesis  have 
next  to  explain,  what  the  circumstances  are  which 
give  rise,  in  this  manner,  to  our  impressions  of  vice 
and  virtue,  moral  approbation  or  disapprobation.  The 
various  modes  of  explaining  this  impression  have  led 
to  the  Theories  of  Morals. 

The  system  of  Mandeville  ascribes  our  impressions 
of  moral  rectitude  entirely  to  the  enactments  of  legis- 
lators. Man,  he  says,  naturally  seeks  only  his  own 
gratification,  without  any  regard  to  the  happiness  of 
other  men.  But  legislators  found  that  it  would  be 
necessary  to  induce  him,  in  some  way,  to  surrender  a 
portion  of  his  personal  gratification  for  the  good  of 
others,  and  so  to  promote  the  peace  and  harmony  oi 
society.  To  accomplish  this  with  such  a  selfish  being, 
it  was  necessary  to  give  him  some  equivalent  for  the 
sacrifice  he  thus  made  ;  and  the  principle  of  his  nature 
which  they  fixed  upon,  for  this  purpose,  was  his  love 
of  praise.     They  made  certain   laws  for  the  general 

First  view  which  has  been  contended  for?  Second  view?  System  of 
Mandeville?  Mandeville's  views  of  human  character?  His  view  of  the 
object  of  human  laws? 


SEC.   I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  181 

good,  and  then  flattered  mankind  into  the  b^hef  that  it 
was  praiseworthy  to  observe  them,  and  noble  to  sacri- 
fice a  certain  degree  of  their  own  gratification  for  the 
good  of  others.  What  we  call  virtue  thus  resolves 
itself  into  the  love  of  praise.  In  regard  to  such  a  sys- 
tem as  this,  it  has  been  thought  sufficient  to  point  out 
the  distinction  between  the  immutable  principles  of 
morality  and  those  arrangements  which  are  dependent 
upon  mere  enactment.  Such  are  many  of  the  regula- 
tions and  restrictions  of  commerce.  They  are  intend- 
ed for  the  public  good,  and,  while  they  are  in  force,  it 
is  the  duty  of  every  good  citizen  to  obey  them.  A 
change  of  the  law,  however,  changes  their  character, 
for  they  possess  in  themselves  none  of  the  qualities 
of  merit  or  demerit.  But  no  laws  can  alter,  and  no 
statutes  modify,  those  great  principles  of  moral  conduct 
which  are  graved  indelibly  on  the  conscience  ol  all 
classes  of  men.  Kings,  it  has  been  said,  may  make 
laws,  but  cannot  create  a  virtue. 

By  another  modification  of  this  system,  our  impres- 
sions of  virtue  and  vice  are  said  to  be  derived  entirely 
from  mutual  compact.  Men,  finding  that  there  was  a 
certain  course  of  action  which  would  contribute  to 
their  mutual  advantage,  and  vice  versa,  entered  into 
an  agreement  to  observe  certain  conduct,  and  abstain 
from  certain  other.  The  violation  of  this  compact 
constituted  vice,  the  observance  of  it  virtue. 

By  a  theory,  supported  by  some  eminent  men,  as 
Clarke  and  Wollaston,  virtue  was  considered  to  depend 
on  a  conformity  of  the  conduct  to  a  certain  sense  of  the 

Into  what  principle  does  he  resolve  virtue ?     Refutation  of  this  system? 
Are  the  principles  of  virtue  really  independent  of  human  laws  ?     ?>lodifica 
tion  of  this  system  ?     Theory  of  Clarke  and  Wollaston  ? 
16 


182  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IIL 

fitness  of  tilings,  or  the  truth  of  things.  The  mean- 
ing of  this,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  rather  obscure.  It 
however,  evidently  refers  the  essence  of  virtue  to  a 
relation  perceived  by  a  process  of  reason ;  and  there- 
fore may  be  held  as  at  variance  with  the  belief  of  the 
impression  being  universal. 

According  to  the  Theory  of  Utility^  as  warmly  sup- 
ported by  Mr.  Hume,  we  estimate  the  virtue  of  an 
action  and  an  agent  entirely  by  their  usefulness.  He 
seems  to  refer  all  our  mental  impressions  to  two  princi- 
ples, reason  and  taste.  Reason  gives  us  simply  the 
knowledge  of  truth  or  falsehood,  and  is  no  motive  of 
action.  Taste  gives  an  impression  of  pleasure  or  pain; 
so  constitutes  happiness  or  misery,  and  becomes  a 
motive  of  action.  To  this  he  refers  our  impressions  of 
beauty  and  deformity,  vice  and  virtue.  He  has,  ac- 
cordingly, distinctly  asserted  that  the  words  right  and 
wrong  signify  nothing  more  than  sweet  or  sour,  plea- 
sant or  painful,  being  only  effects  upon  the  mind  of  the 
spectator  produced  by  the  contemplation  of  certain  con- 
duct,— and  this,  as  we  have  already  seen,  resolves 
itself  into  the  impression  of  its  usefulness.  An  obvious 
objection  to  the  system  of  utihty  was,  that  it  might  be 
applied  to  the  effects  of  inanimate  matter  as  correctly 
as  to  the  deeds  of  a  voluntary  agent.  A  printing-press 
or  a  steam-engine  might  be  as  meritorious  as  a  man  of 
extensive  virtue.  To  obviate  this,  Mr.  Hume  was 
driven  to  a  distinction,  which  in  fact  amounted  to 
giving  up  the  doctrine,  namely,  that  the  sense  of  utility 

Is  its  meaning  clear?  Objection  to  it?  Hume's  iheon'?  To  what  two 
principles  does  he  refer  all  our  mental  impressions?  The  province  of  rea- 
son?  of  taste?     His  idea  of  right  and  wrong?     Obvious  ohjcction  to 

this  system '? 


SEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  183 

must  be  combined  with  a  feeling  of  approbation.  This 
leads  us  back  to  the  previous  question,  on  what  this 
feeling  of  approbation  is  founded,  and  at  once  recog- 
nises  a  principle,  distinct  from  the  mere  perception  of 
utility.  Virtuous  conduct  may  indeed  always  contri- 
bute to  general  utility,  or  general  happiness;  but  this 
is  an  effect  only,  not  the  cause  or  the  principle  which 
constitutes  it  virtuous.  This  important  distinction  has 
been  well  stated  by  professor  Mills  of  Oxford.  He 
defines  morality  to  be,  "  an  obedience  to  the  law  and 
constitution  of  man's  nature,  assigned  him  by  the  Deity 
in  conformity  to  his  own  essential  and  unchangeable 
attributes,  the  effect  of  which  is  the  general  happiness 
of  his  creatures. ''=^  We  may  safely  assert,  that  what- 
ever is  right  is  also  expedient  for  man  ;  but  the  con- 
verse by  no  means  follows, — that  what  is  expedient, 
that  is,  what  mankind  think  would  be  expedient,  comes 
to  be  right. 

We  come  now  to  the  Selfish  System  of  morals,  ac- 
cording to  which  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  con- 
duct of  mankind  is  a  desire  to  promote  their  own 
gratification  or  interest.  This  theory  has  appeared  in 
various  forms,  from  a  very  early  period  in  the  history 
of  ethical  science ;  but  the  most  remarkable  promoter 
of  it  in  more  modern  times  was  Mr.  Hobbes.  Accor- 
ding to  him,  man  is  influenced  entirely  by  what  seems 
calculated;  more  immediately  or  more  remotely,  to 
promote  his  own  interest;  whatever  does  so  he  con 

*  Lecture  on  the  Theology  of  Moral  Obligation.     Oxford,  1830. 

Mr.  Hume's  mode  of  obviating  this  objection  ?  What  is  the  true  relalioi 
Df  virtuous  conduct  to  utility  ?  Professor  Mills'  definition  of  morality  ?  The 
Belftsh  system  ?  Who  has  been  the  most  distinguished  promoter  of  it  in 
modern  times  7 


184  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III. 

siders  as  right,  the  opposite  as  wrong.  He  is  driven 
to  society  by  necessity,  and  then,  whatever  promotes 
the  general  good  he  considers  as  ultimately  calcu later] 
to  promote  his  own.  This  system  is  founded  upon  a 
fallacy,  similar  to  that  referred  to  under  the  former 
head.  Virtuous  conduct  does  impart  gratification,  and 
that  of  the  highest  kind  ;  and,  in  the  strictest  sense  of 
the  word,  it  promotes  the  true  interest  oT  the  agent; 
but  this  tendency  is  the  effect,  not  the  cause:  and 
never  can  be  considered  as  the  principle  which  imparts 
to  conduct  its  character  of  virtue ;  nor  do  we  perform 
it  merely  because  it  affords  us  gratification,  or  pro- 
motes our  interest.  The  hypothesis,  indeed,  may  bo 
considered  as  distinctly  contradicted  by  facts  ;  for  even 
in  our  own  experience,  it  is  clear,  that  the  pleasure 
attending  an  act  of  generosity  or  virtue  in  ourselves, 
as  well  as  our  approbation  of  it  in  others,  is  diminish- 
ed or  destroyed  by  the  impression,  that  there  was  a 
selfish  purpose  to  answer  by  it. 

There  is  a  modification  of  the  selfish  system  which 
attempts  to  get  rid  of  its  more  offensive  aspect  by  a 
singular  and  circuitous  chain  of  moral  emotions.  We 
have  experienced,  it  is  said,  that  a  certain  attennon  to 
the  comfort  or  advantage  of  others  contributes  to  our 
own.  A  kind  of  habit  is  thus  formed,  by  which  we 
come  at  last  to  seek  the  happiness  of  others  for  their 
own  sake;  so  that,  by  this  process,  actions,  which  at 
first  were  considered  only  as  inexpedient,  from  being 
opposed  to  self-love,  at  length  and  insensibly  come  to 
be  considered  as  immoral.     This  can  be  considered  as' 

His  thoory.     Author's  reply  to  his  views?     What  facts  contraiUcl  il  .'     :\ 
'.iKxIification  of  the  selfish  system  ?     Explain  it  in  full. 


SEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  185 

nothing  more  than  an  ingenious  play  upon  words^  and 
deserves  only  to  be  mentioned  as  a  historical  fact,  in  a 
view  of  those  speculations  by  which  this  important 
subject  has  been  obscured  and  bewildered. 

Another  modification  of  the  theories  of  morals  re- 
mains to  be  mentioned  ;  namely,  that  of  the  distin- 
guished Pale}?".  This  eminent  writer  is  decidedly 
opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  a  moral  sense  or  moral 
principle ;  but  the  system  which  he  proposes  to  substi- 
tute in  its  place  must  be  acknowledged  to  be  liable  to 
considerable  objections.  He  commences  with  the  pro- 
position that  virtue  is  doing  good  to  mankind,  in 
obedience  to  the  v/ill  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  ever- 
lasting happiness.  The  good  of  mankind,  therefore,  is 
the  object,  the  will  of  God  the  rule,  and  everlasting 
happiness  the  motive  of  human  virtue.  The  will  of 
God,  he  subsequently  goes  on  to  show,  is  made  known 
to  us,  partly  by  revelation,  and  partly  by  what  we 
discover  of  his  designs  and  dispositions  from  his  works, 
or,  as  we  usually  call  it,  the  light  of  nature.  From 
this  last  source  he  thinks  it  is  clearly  to  be  inferred, 
that  God  wills  and  wishes  the  happiness  of  his  crea- 
tures: consequently,  actions  which  promote  that  will 
and  wish  must  be  agreeable  to  him,  and  the  contrary. 
The  method  of  ascertaining  the  will  of  God  concerning 
any  action,  by  the  light  of  nature,  therefore,  is,  to  in- 
quire into  the  tendency  of  the  action  to  promote  or 

How  this  theory  is  to  be  considered?  The  last  theory  to  be  considered. 
whose  ?  Does  he  admit  or  deny  a  distinct  moral  sense  ?  The  fundamental 
pnnciple  in  his  system?  What  does  he  consider  the  object  of  human  vir- 
tue ?  what  the  rule  ?  what  the  motive  '^     His  reasoning  from  ihese 

premises  ? 

16=^ 


ISO  THE    MORAL   PRINCIPLE.  [PAKT  llU,|j 

diminish  general  happiness.  Proceeding  on  theso-jj 
grounds,  he  then  arrives  at  the  conchision,  that  wlial-  . 
ever  is  expedient  is  right;  and  that  it  is  the  utihty  of  '^ 
any  moral  rule  alone  which  constitutes  the  obligation. il, 
of  it.  In  his  farther  elucidation  of  this  theory,  Dr.  \] 
Paley  admits,  that  an  action  may  be  useful,  in  an  indi-  , 
vidual  case,  which  is  not  right.  To  constitute  it  right,  it  .ji 
is  necessary  that  it  shall  be  "expedient  upon  the  wlioie,  j, 
— at  the  long  run,  in  all  its  effects,  collateral  and  remote  ^ 
as  well  as  those  which  are  immediate  and  direct."         ' 

In  presuming  to  offer  a  criticism  upon  Paley,  I  readi- 
ly concede  to  the  defenders  of  his  system,  that  it  is  not-  ;| 
to  be  classed  with  the  utilitarianism  of  Hume  and  ) 
Godwin ;  and  that  it  is  not,  correctly  speaking,  charge- 
able with  selfishness,  in  holding  out  the  happiness  of  a  | 
future  state  as  a  motive  to  virtue.  The  latter  part  of 
his  system  is  clearly  countenanced  by  the  sacred  wri- 
tings ;  and  it  does  appear  to  be  a  stretch  of  language, 
to  apply  the  term  selfishness  to  the  longing  which  the 
sincere  Christian  feels  for  the  full  enjoyment  of  God. 
In  regard  to  the  former  part  of  his  doctrine,  again,  it 
appears  that  Paley  meant  to  propose  the  will  of  God 
as  the  rule  or  obligation  of  morals,  and  utility  only  as 
a  criterion  or  guide;  though  it  must  be  confessed  that 
his  language  is  liable  to  much  misconstruction,  and  is 
repeatedly  at  variance  with  itself.  The  real  objection 
to  the  doctrine  of  Paley,  I  apprehend,  lies  m  his  un- 
qualified rejection  of  the  supreme  authority  of  con- 
science, and  in  the  mental  operation  which  he  substi- 

His  conclusion?  What  is  necessary,  according  to  this  theory,  to  rend'  / 
an  action  right  ?  Points  conceded  by  the  author  in  respect  to  this  system  .' 
Fundamental  objection  to  Paley's  doctrine  ? 


SEC.  I.J  THKOKIES    01-    3IOKALS.  187 

tiites  in  its  place,  namely,  a  circuitous  process  of 
reasoning,  in  each  individual,  respecting  the  entire  and 
ultimate  expediency  of  actions.  There  are  two  con- 
siderations which  appear  to  present  serious  objections 
to  this  part  of  the  system  as  a  doctrine  to  be  applied  to 
practical  purposes.  (1.)  If  we  suppose  a  man  delibe- 
rating respecting  an  action,  which  lie  perceives  would 
be  eminently  expedient  and  useful  in  an  individual 
case,  and  which  he  feels  to  be  higlily  desirable  in  its 
immediate  reference  to  that  case;  we  may  naturally 
ask,  whether  he  is  in  a  likely  condition  to  find  his  way 
to  a  sound  conclusion  respecting  the  consequences  of 
the  action  "upon  the  whole,  at  the  long  run,  in  all  its 
consequences,  remote  and  collateral."  It  may  certain- 
ly be  doubted  whether,  in  any  case,  there  is  not  great 
danger  of  differences  of  opinion  arising  respectmg  this 
extended  and  ultimate  expediency;  and  it  musi  be  ad- 
mitted that,  in  the  man  now  referred  to,  the  very  cir- 
cumstances of  his  perception  of  great  and  immediate 
utility,  and  the  state  of  desire  connected  with  it,  would 
constitute  a  moral  condition  which  might  interfere,  in 
a  very  material  degree,  with  his  calculation  as  to  its 
ultimate  expediency.  Upon  whatever  system  we  pro- 
ceed, I  fear  it  must  be  conceded  as  a  fact,  that  there  is 
a  singular  propensity  in  the  mass  of  mankind  to  con- 
sider their  own  pains  and  pleasures  before  those  of 
other  men ;  and  this  propensity  must  interfere  with 
that  cool  course  of  moral  calculation  which  the  system 
of  utility  must  consider  as  indispensable.  (2.)  Inde- 
pendently of  this  consideration,  we  may  be  allowed  to 

Can  this  system  be  easily  applied  in  practice  7     First  great  practical  aifS 
euity  7     State  it  in  full. 


188  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  PART  IIL- 

doubt,  whether  any  human  being  can  arrive  at  such^ 
an  extensive  knowledge,  as  this  tlieory  seems  to  reiidei 
necessary,  of  ail  the  consequences  of  an  action,  remote 
and  collateral.  This  would  appear  to  constitute  a  kiiic 
and  a  degree  of  knowledge  to  be  found  only  in  the 
omniscience  of  the  Deity.  It  is,  in  fact,  by  giving  itj 
full  weight  to  this  difficulty,  that  the  doctrine  of  utility 
has  been  employed  by  some  foreign  writers,  in  their 
atteniDts  to  undermine  the  whole  foundation  of  morals. 
"The  goodness  of  actions,"  says  Beausobre,  in  his 
Pyrrhonisme  Raisonable,  "depends  upon  their  conse- 
quences, which  man  cannot  foresee,  nor  accurately 
ascertain."  What  harmony,  indeed,  or  what  consis- 
tency of  moral  sentiment  can  we  expect  from  a  system, 
by  which  man  himself  is  made  the  judge  of  the  code 
of  morals  to  which  he  is  to  be  subject,  and  by  which 
his  decisions,  on  a  question  so  momentous,  are  made 
to  rest  on  those  remote  consequences  of  actions  which 
he  must  feel  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  his  limited 
faculties  7 

If  these  observations  be  well-founded,  I  think  we' 
cannot  hesitate  to  maintain,  that,  on  such  a  nice  calcu- 
lation of  consequences,  it  is  impossible  to  found  a  rule 
of  morals  in  any  degree  adapted  to  the  necessities  of: 
man.  The  same  objection  applies  to  every  doctrine,, 
which  does  not  recognise  the  supreme  authority  of 
conscience  as  an  original  part  of  our  moral  constitution* . 
warning  us  of  certain  conduct  as  immutably  right,  and! 
certain  other  conduct  as  immutably  wrong,  without  i 

Second  great  practical  difficulty  ?     Degree  of  knowledge  necessarj'  in  order  i 
to  apply  the  system  ?     Beausohre's  argument  ?     Result  of  the  author's  ohser- 
eations.     What  principle  is  it  absolutely  necessary  to  recognise    n  ever^  i 
moral  theory  ? 


hEL.   I  ]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  189 

any  regard  either  to  our  own  advantage,  or  to  our 
judgment  of  the  tendency  of  the  deeds.  Whenever  we 
depart  from  this  great  principle,  we  reduce  every  moral 
decisioii  to  what  must  primarily  be  a  process  of  reason- 
ing, ana  m  which,  from  the  intricate  calculation  of  con- 
sequences which  necessarily  arises,  there  can  scarcely 
fail  to  be  differences  of  opinion  respecting  the  tendency 
of  actions,  instead  of  that  absolute  conviction  which 
the  deep  importance  of  the  subject  renders  indispensa- 
ble. It  may,  farther,  be  confidently  stated  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  that  a  conscientious  man,  in  considering  an 
action  which  involves  a  point  of  moral  duty,  does  not 
enter  upon  any  such  calculation  of  its  consequences. 
He  simply  asks  himself,  Is  it  right?  and  so  decides, 
according  to  an  impulse  within,  which  he  feels  to  be  a 
part  of  his  moral  constitution,  susceptible  of  no  expla- 
nation, and  not  admitting  of  being  referred  to  any  other 
principle.  I  confess,  indeed,  that  I  cannot  perceive 
how  the  doctrine  of  utility,  in  any  of  its  forms,  can  be 
reconciled  with  the  principle  of  moral  responsibility. 
For  what  we  commonly  call  vice  and  virtue  must  re- 
solve themselves  merely  into  differences  of  opinion 
respecting  what  is  most  expedient  in  all  its  consequen- 
ces, remote  and  collateral.  We  have  already  alluded 
to  the  considerations  which  must  make  this  decision 
one  of  extreme  difficulty;  and  how  can  we  ascribe 
moral  guilt  to  that  which,  though  in  vulgar  language 
we  may  call  it  vice,  must  very  often  be  nothing  more 

Consequence  of  departing  from  this  principle  ?  Can  men  be  expected  to 
agree  m  any  calculation  of  the  consequences  of  actions  ?  Does  a  consci- 
entious man  make  any  such  calculation  in  estimating  the  moral  character  of 
actions  ?  To  what  must  virtue  and  vice  resolve  themselves  in  all  thLories 
of  utUity  7 


190  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  lUj 

than  an  error  in  judgment   respecting   this   ultimate- 
good  ?  I 

In  regard  to  the  whole  of  this  important  suhject,  I 
cannot  see  the  necessity  for  the  circuitous  mental  ope- 
rations which  have  been  made  to  apply  to  it;  nor  can 
1  enter  into  the  repugnance,  shown  by  various  classes  ^ 
of  moralists,  against  the  belief  of  a  process  or  a  princi-  [ 
pie  in  our  constitution,  given  us  for  a  guide  in  oui 
moral  relations.  It  is  unnecessary  to  dispute  about  its 
name,  or  even  about  its  origin ;  for  the  former  is  of  no 
importance,  and  of  the  latter  we  know  nothing.  The 
question  relates  simply  to  its  existence  as  a  mental 
exercise  distinct  from  any  process  of  reasoning,  and  the 
only  criterion  to  which  the  question  can  be  referred,  is 
an  appeal  to  the  moral  feelings  of  every  individual. 
Is  there  not  a  mental  movement  or  feeling,  call  it  what 
we  may,  by  which  we  have  a  perception  of  actions  as 
just  or  unjust,  right  or  wrong;  and  by  which  we  expe- 
rience shame  or  remorse  respecting  our  own  conduct 
in  particular  instances,  and  indignation  against  the 
conduct  of  others  7  Every  one  is  conscious  of  such  a 
jnental  exercise;  and  there  are  two  considerations 
which,  I  think,  may  be  referred  to  as  moral  facts, 
showing  a  clear  and  decided  difference  between  it  and 
any  simple  process  of  reasoning.  (1.)  I  would  ask 
whether,  in  deciding  on  his  conduct,  every  man  is  not 
conscious  of  two  classes  of  actions,  in  regard  to  which 
the  processes  of  his  mind  differ  widely  from  each  other 

Does  ihe  author  ihiiik  there  is  any  valid  ohjoction  to  admitting  a  distinci 
principle  in  the  constitution,  hy  which  moral  relations  are  recognised  ?  Has 
such  a  principle  been  objected  to  frequently  ?  Is  its  name  of  any  great  con 
sequence  ?  Have  \re  not  a  direct  perception  of  the  qualities  of  actions  s: 
n^ht  or  wrong?     Is  this  perception  the  result  of  any  process  of  reasoning' 


SEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  191 

In  deciditig  respecting  actions  of  the  one  class,  he  care- 
fully and  anxiously  deliberates  on  their  tendencies, 
that  is,  their  utility  towards  himself,  or  to  others  whose 
welfare  he  has  in  view ;  and  he  reflects  on  what  was 
his  conduct  in  similar  cases,  on  former  occasions.  In 
deciding  respecting  actions  of  the  other  class,  he  enters 
into  no  such  calculations ;  he  feels  an  immediate  im- 
pression that  a  certain  course  is  right,  and  a  certain 
other  wrong,- without  looking  a  single  step  into  their 
tendencies.  Every  one  is  conscious  of  this  difference 
between  acting  from  a  perception  of  utility,  and  from 
a  feeling  of  obligation  or  a  sense  of  duty  ;  and  it  would 
be  diificult  to  prove  that  any  perception  of  utility  alone 
ever  amounts  to  an  actual  obligation.  (2.)  In  that 
class  of  actions  to  which  is  properly  applied  a  calcula 
tion  of  utility,  we  see  the  most  remarkable  difference. 
in  judgment  manifested  by  men,  whom  we  regard  as 
holding  a  high  place  in  respect  both  of  integrity  and 
talent.  Let  us  take  for  example  the  measures  of  politi- 
cal economy.  A  conscientious  statesman  feels  that  he 
is  bound  to  pursue  measures  calculated  to  promote  the 
good  of  his  country ;  but  the  individual  measures  are 
often  questions  of  expediency  or  utility.  And  what  an 
endless  diversity  of  judgment  do  we  observe  respecting 
them ;  and  how  often  do  we  find  measures  proposed 
by  able  men,  as  calculated  to  produce  important  public 
benefit,  which  others,  of  no  inferior  name,  with  equal 
confidence  condemn  as  frivolous,  or  even  dangerous. 
If  there  can  be  such  a  difference  of  opinion  respecting 

First  consideration  showing  the  diiierence  ?  Remarks  on  tlie  difference 
between  calculating  expediency  and  feeling  moral  obligatirn.  Second  con - 
sideratioa?  Is  the  judgment  formed  by  different  men,  m  respect  to  tne 
ntility  of  actions,  uniform  ?     Illustration. 


92  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [P.ART  HI.; 

one  class  of  actions,  we  cannot  avoid  tne  impression 
that  there  may  be  similar  differences  respecting  others,! 
whenever  the  decision  is  left  to  a  simple  process  of 
reason ;  and  we  cannot  but  feel  some  misgivings  as  to 
what  the  state  of  human  society  would  be,  if  men,  in 
their  moral  decisions,  were  kept  together  by  no  other 
ties  than  the  speculations  of  each  individual  respecting 
general  utility.  In  any  such  process,  we  can  see  no 
provision  for  that  uniformity  of  feeling  required  for  the 
class  of  actions  in  which  are  concerned  our  moral  de- 
cisions; and  I  can  see  nothing  unphilosophical  in  the 
behef,  that  the  Creator  has  provided,  in  reference  to 
these,  a  part  or  a  process  in  our  moral  constitution, 
which  is  incapable  of  analysis,  but  which  proves,  as 
Butler  has  termed  it,  "  a  rule  of  right  within,  to  every 
man  who  honestly  attends  to  it." 

To  this  view  of  the  subject  I  would  add  only  one 
consideration,  which  alone  appears  to  present  an  insur- 
mountable objection  to  the  doctrine  of  utility  in  all  its 
modifications;  namely,  that  any  correct  ideas  of  the 
utility  of  an  action  can  be  derived  only  from  experi- 
ence. The  study  of  the  principles  of  morality,  there- 
fore, would  consist  of  a  series  of  observations  or 
experiments,  by  which  valid  conclusions  might  bo 
ascertained;  and  an  individual,  entering  upon  the 
momentous  question,  would  require  either  to  trust  to 
the  conclusions  of  others,  or  to  make  the  observations 
and  experiments  for  himself.     In  the  former  case,  he 

If  supposed  utility  was  the  standard  of  moral  obligation,  could  there  be 
uniformity  amonsf  men  in  respect  to  moral  truth  ?  The  author's  conclusion? 
An  msurmountahle  olijcction  to  the  doctrine  of  utility  ?  On  this  theory  what 
would  be  the  nature  of  the  study  of  morals  ?  Difficulty  in  which  eacn  mdi- 
Tidual  student  would  be  placed  ? 


SEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  193 

could  not  fail  to  perceive  the  precarious  nature  of  the 
basis  on  which  he  was  receiving  principles  of  such 
weighty  importance.  He  could  not  fail  to  remark, 
that,  in  other  sciences,  unsound  and  premature  deduc- 
tions had  been  brought  forward,  even  on  high  authori- 
ty, and  allowed  to  usurp  the  place  of  truth.  ..  How  is 
he  to  be  satisfied,  that,  in  this  highest  of  all  inquiries, 
similar  errors  had  not  been  committed?  To  avoid  such 
uncertainty,  he  may  resolve  to  make  the  observations 
or  experiments  for  himself,  and  to  trust  only  to  his  own 
conclusions.  But  here  he  is  met  by  another  difficulty 
of  appalling  magnitude.  For  a  lifetime  may  not  suffice 
to  bring  the  experiments  to  a  close;  and,  during  this, 
he  must  remain  in  the  same  uncertainty  on  the  great 
principles  of  morals,  as  respecting  the  periods  of  a 
comet,  which,  having  been  seen  for  a  day,  darts  off 
into  its  eccentric  orbit,  and  may  not  return  for  a  centu- 
ry. How  can  it  accord  with  our  convictions  of  the 
wisdom  of  Him  who  made  us,  that  he  should  have 
made  us  thus  7 

The  foundation  of  all  these  theories  of  morals,  then, 
se(ims  to  be  the  impression,  that  there  is  nothing  right 
or  wrong,  just  or  unjust,  in  itself;  but  that  our  ideas  of 
right  and  wrong,  justice  and  injustice,  arise  either  from 
actual  law  or  mutual  compact,  or  from  our  view  of  the 
tendencies  of  actions.  Another  modification  of  these 
theories,  liable,  as  it  is  sometimes  stated,  to  similar 
objection,  ascribes  the  orfgin  of  right  and  wrong  direct- 


Difficulty  in  the  way  of  our  taking  the  results  of  the  observations  of  others  l 
Difficulty  in  the  way  of  each  man's  making  the  observations  himself?  Errf>- 
neous  foundation  of  all  the  theories  of  morals  thus  far  adverted  to  ?  Ano- 
ther theory  7 

17 


194  THK    ]\IORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III 

ly  to  the  will  of  the  Deity,  and  holds  that  there  is '' 
nothing  wrong  which  might  not  have  been  right,  if  he  ( 
had  so  ordained  it. 

By  the  immutability  of  moral  distinctions,  as  oppos- 
ed to  these  theories,  we  mean,  that  there  are  certain 
actions  which  are  immutably  right,  and  which  we  are 
bound  in  duty  to  perform,  and  certain  actions  which  \i 
are  immutably  wrong,  apart  from  any  other  conside- 
ration whatever;   and, that  an   absolute  conviction  of 
this  is  fixed  upon  us  in  the  moral   principle  or  con- 
science, independently  of  knowledge  derived  from  any  t 
other  source  respecting  the  will  or  laws  of  the  Almigh-,  s 
ty.     This   important   distinction  has  been  sometimes  c 
not  unaptly  expressed  by  saying  of  such  actions,  not  ^ 
that  rhey  are  right  because  the  Deity  has  commanded 
them,  but  that  he  has  commanded  them  because  they 
are  right.     By  this  system,  therefore,  which  refers  our 
moral   impressions  to  the  supreme  authority  of  con- 
science, a  principle  is  disclosed,  which,  independently  ^ 
even  of  revelation,  not   only  establishes  an    absokite  ^ 
conviction  of  the  laws  of  moral  rectitude,  but  leads  us 
to  the  impression  of  moral  responsibility  and  a  moral 
Governor;    and,  as  immediately  flowing  from  this,  a 
state  of  future  retribution.     We  have  already  shown 
this  to  accord  with  the  declarations  of  the  sacred  wri- 
tings, and  it  is  evidently  the  only  system  on  which  we 
can   account  for  that  uniformity  of  moral   sentiment  ^ 
which    is   absolutely   required   for   the  harmonies  of 


What  implied  in  the  immutahility  of  moral  distinctions  as  maintained  by 
the  author  7     Mode  in   which  this  immulahility  has   been  sometimes  ex- 
pressed ?    Ilesults  of  this  system  ?    Phenomenon  which  can  be  accopnted.   )i 
for  only  on  this  view  ? 


SEC.   I. J  .HEOlllEb    OF    MORALS.  195 

society.  For  it  is,  in  fact,  on  a  conviction  of  this  feel- 
ing in  ourselves,  and  of  the  existence  of  a  similar  and 
universal  principle  in  others,  that  is  founded  all  the 
mutual  confidence  which  keeps  mankind  together.  It 
is  this  reciprocity  of  moral  feeling  that  proves  a  con- 
stant check  upon  the  conduct  of  men  in  the  daily 
transactions  of  hfe ;  but,  to  answer  this  purpose,  there 
is  evidently  required  an  impression  of  its  uniformity, 
or  a  conviction  that  the  actions  which  we  disapprove 
in  others,  will  be  condemned  in  us  by  the  unanimous 
decision  of  other  men.  It  is  equally  clear  that  we  have 
no  such  impression  of  a  uniformity  of  sentiment  oa  any 
other  subject,  except  on  those  referable  to  the  class  of 
first  truths ;  and  this  immediately  indicates  a  marked 
distinction  between  our  moral  impressions,  and  any  of 
those  conclusions  at  which  we  arrive  by  a  process  of 
the  understanding.  It  is  clear,  also,  that  this  uniformi- 
ty can  arise  from  no  system,  which  either  refers  us 
directly  to  the  will  of  God,  or  is  liable  to  be  afiected 
by  the  diiferences  which  may  exist  in  the  judgment, 
the  moral  taste,  the  personal  feelings,  or  the  interests 
of  different  individuals.  It  must  be,  in  itself,  fixed 
and  immutable,  conveying  an  absolute  conviction 
which  admits  of  no  doubt  and  no  difference  of  opinion. 
Such  is  the  great  principle  of  conscience.  However  its 
warnings  may  be  neglected,  and  its  influence  obscured 
by  passion  and  moral  degradation,  it  still  asserts  its 
claim  to  govern  the  whole  man.  "  Had  it  strength," 
says  Butler,  "as  it  had  right;  had  it  poAver,  as  it  had 

Evidence  that  the  standard  of  right  and  A»rong  is  universal  ?  Have  we 
any  such  impression  of  such  a  uniformity  of  sentiment  among  men  on  any 
other  subjects  ? — in  respect  to  what  class  of  truths  ?    Inference  from  tliis  7 


196  THE    MOKAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IFtl 

manifest   authorityj    it   would   absolutely   govern  the' 
world."  I 

In  opposition  to  this  belief  of  a  uniformity  of  moral 
feeling,  much  importance   has   been   attached   to  the 
practices  of  certain  ancient  and  some  barbarous  na- 
tions, as  the  encouragement  of  theft  in  Sparta,  and  the. 
exposure  of  the  aged  among  certain   tribes  in  India. 
Such  instances  prove  no  diversity  of  moral  feeling;  but 
a  difference  of  practice,  arising  from  certain  specialties, 
real  or  supposed,  by  which,  in  the  particular  cases,  the 
influence  of  the  primary  moral  feeling  is,  for  the  time, 
set  aside.     It  is   of  no   importance  to  the  argument, 
whether  the  disturbing  principle  thus  operating  be  the 
result  of  an  absurd  local  policy  or  a  barbarous  supersti- 
tion.    It  is  enough  that  we  see  a  principle,  which,  in 
point  of  fact,  does  thus   operate,  suspending,  in    the 
particular  instances,  the  primary  moral  impression.     It 
was  not  that,   in  Sparta,   there  was  any  absence   of 
the  usual  moral  feeling  in  regard  to  theft  in  the  ab- 
stract,   but   that  the  cultivation   of  habits  of  activity^ 
and   enterprise,   which  arose  from   the  practice,    was 
considered  as  a  national  object  of  the  highest  impor- 
tance, in    a  small  and   warlike  state,   surrounded   by 
powerful  enemies.     It  is  precisely  in  the  same  manncri 
that,  in  individual  conduct,  a  man  may  be  misled  by, 
passion  or  by  interest  to  do   things  which   his   sobefi 
judgment  condemns.     In  doing  so,  there  is  no  want  rtf 

Butler's  remark  upon  the  power  of  conscience  ?    What  argument  has  hocjx 
adduced  against  this  view?     Do  these  instances  really  prove  a  diversity  of  I 
moral  feeling?     Explanation  of  them?    Was  it  really  theft  itself  which  wa»  ' 
approved  hy  the  Spartans  ?     What  was  the  real  object  of  their  approhatioa  c 
and  cncourageiTVPut?     Similar  examples  in  common  life  ? 


SEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  197 

the  ordinary  moral  feeling  which  influences  other  men; 
but  he  has  brought  himself  to  violate  this  feeling,  for 
certain  purposes  which  he  finds  to  be  highly  desirable; 
and  then,  probably,  seeks  to  defend  his  conduct  to  the 
satisfaction  of  his  OAvn  mind,  and  of  the  minds  of 
others.  He  has  a  distinct  perception  of  what  is  right, 
while  he  does  what  is  wrong.  There  are  numerous 
facts  which  illustrate  the  same  principle,  and  show  the 
recognition  of  correct  moral  feelings,  even  in  those  who 
habitually  and  daringly  violate  them; — as  the  laws 
of  honor  and  honesty  which  robbers  observe  towards 
each  other,  and  the  remarkable  fidelity  of  smugglers 
towards  their  associates.  In  some  of  the  tribes  in  the 
South  seas,  also,  most  remarkable  for  their  dishonesty, 
it  was  found,  that  while  they  encouraged  each  other  in 
pillaging  strangers,  theft  was  most  severely  punished 
among  themselves.  Need  I  farther  refer,  on  this  sub- 
ject, to  the  line  of  argument  adopted  in  the  great  ques- 
tion of  slavery.  It  is  directed  to  the  palliating  circum- 
stances in  the  actual  state  of  slavery,  not  to  a  broad 
defence  of  slavery  itself.  Its  object  is  to  show,  that 
slavery,  under  all  its  present  circumstances,  may  be 
reconciled  with  the  principles  of  humanity  and  justice: 
no  attempt  is  ever  made  to  prove,  that  it  is  consistent 
with  these  principles  to  tear  a  human  being  from  his 
country  and  his  kindred,  and  make  him  a  slave. ^ 
On    this   subject   we   are    sometimes   triumphantly 

*  See  this  subject  eloquently  argued  in  Dr.  Chalmers'  Bridge watei  Trea- 
tise. 


Explanation  of  them.  Example  from  the  habits  of  thieves  and  smug- 
glers ?  South  sea  savages  ?  /  ^iment  drawn  from  the  mode  in  which 
slavery  is  defended  ? 

17#  ■ 


198  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  ni- '^ 

asked,  Where  is  the  conscience  of  the  inquisitor?  as  if  ? 
the  moral  condition  of  such  an  individual  incontestably 
proved,  tliat  there  can  be  no  such  power  as  we  consider 
conscience  to  be.  But  T  think  it  cannot  be  donbted, 
that,  as  in  the  more  common  cases  which  have  been 
mentioned,  the  conscience  of  the  inquisitor  comes 
gradually  to  be  accommodated  to  the  circum.stances  in 
which  he  has  voluntarily  placed  himself.  This  re- 
markable moral  process  has  been  repeatedly  referred 
to.  It  may  originate  in  various  causes.  It  may  arise 
from  passion,  or  an  ill-regulated  state  of  the  desires  or 
affections  of  the  mind;  it  may  arise  from  motives  of 
interest,  leading  a  man  by  small  and  gradual  st^ps  into 
actions  which  his  sober  judgment  condemns:  or  false 
opinions,  however  received,  may  he  allowed  to  fasten 
on  the  mind,  until,  from  want  of  candid  examination, 
they  come  to  he  invested  with  the  authority  of  truth. 
In  the  moral  process  which  follows,  each  single  step  is 
slight,  and  its  influence  almost  imperceptible;  but  this 
influence  is  perpetuated,  and  gains  strength  in  each 
succeeding  step,  until  the  result  is  a  total  derangement 
of  the  moral  harmony  of  the  mind. 

It  remains  only  that  we  briefly  notice  the  system  of 
Dr.  Adam  Smith,  commonly  called  the  theory  of  Sym- 
pathy. According  to  this  ingenious  writer,  it  is  requir- 
ed for  our  moral  sentiments  respecting  an  action,  that 
we  enter  into  the  feelings  both  of  the  agent,  and  of  him 
to  whom  the  action  relates.     If  we  sympathize  with 

Case  of  supposed  difliculty  ?  Autlior's  explanation  of  tlie  moral  state  of 
the  inquisitor?  Vanous  ways  in  which  this  process  of  moral  deterioration 
may  orig:inate  ?  Manner  in  which  siu:h  a  process  goes  on  ?  One  remaining 
theory  to  h«  notice. 1  ;  whose  ?     How  desig'ualed  ? 


FEC.  I.]  THEORIES    OF    MORALS.  199 

the  feelings  and  intentions  of  the  agent,  we  approve  of 
his  conduct  as  right:  if  not,  we  consider  it  as  wrong. 
If,  in  the  individual  to  whom  the  action  refers,  we 
sympathize  with  a  feeling  of  gratitude,  we  regard  the 
agent  as  worthy  of  praise;  if  with  a  feeling  of  resent- 
ment, the  contrary.  We  thus  observe  our  feelings 
respecting  the  conduct  of  others,  in  cases  in  which  we 
are  not  personally  concerned,  then  apply  these  rules  to 
ourselves,  and  thus  judge  of  our  own  conduct.  This 
very  obvious  statement,  however,  of  Avhat  every  man 
feels,  does  not  supply  the  place  of  a  fundamental  rule 
of  right  and  wrong;  and  indeed  Dr.  Smith  does  not 
appear  to  contend  that  it  does  so.  It  applies  only  to 
the  application  of  a  principle,  not  to  the  origin  of  it. 
Our  sympathy  can  never  be  supposed  t(  constitute  an 
action  right  or  wrong;  but  it  enables  us  to  apply  to 
individual  cases  a  principle  of  right  and  wrong  derived 
from  another  source;  and  to  clear  our  judgment  in 
doing  so  from  the  blinding  influence  of  those  selfish 
feelings  by  which  we  are  so  apt  to  be  misled  when  we 
apply  it  directly  to  ourselves.  In  estimating  our  ov/n 
conduct,  we  then  apply  to  it  those  conclusions  which 
we  have  made  with  regard  to  the  conduct  of  others;  or 
we  imagine  others  applying  the  same  process  in  regard 
to  us,  and  consider  how  our  conduct  would  appear  to 
an  impartial  observer. 

This,  however,  is  a  most  important  principle  in  re- 
gard to  our  moral  decisions, — namely,  the  process  by 

Explain  this  theory.  Remarks  of  the  author  on  this  theory  ?  Can  our 
sympathy  ever  constitute  an  action  right  or  wrong  ?  What  is  its  true  pro- 
rince  ?     Important  process  of  mind  arising  from  these  principles  ? 


200  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  IH.  | 

which   we  vi(;w  an  action,  or  a  course  of  conduct,  irn 
anotlier,    and    then    apply    the   decision   to   ourselves  | 
W  lien  the    power  of  moral   judgment  is   obscured  otf; 
deadened  in  regard  to  our  own  conduct,  by  self-love  or  ' 
deranged  moral  habits,  all  the  correctness  of  judgment 
IS  often  preserved  respecting  the  actions  of  others.     It 
is  thus  that  men  are  led  on  by  interest  or  passion  into 
courses  of  action,  which,  if  viewed  calmly  and  dispas- • 
sionatcly,  they  would  not  deliberately  defend  even  in 
themselves,  and  which,  when  viewed   in  others,  tlicy 
promptly  condemn.     This  principle  is  beautifully  illus- 
trated in  the  sacred  writings,  when   the  prophet  went 
to  the  king  of  Israel,  and  laid  before  him  the  hypotheti- 
cal case  of  a  rich  man,  who  had  committed  an  act  of 
gross  and  unfeeling  injustice  against  a  poor  neighbor. 
The  monarch  was  instantly  roused  to  indignation,  and 
pronounced   a   sentence  of  severe  but  righteous  ven- 
geance against  the  oppiessor,  when  the  prophet  turned 
upon  him  with  the  solemn  denunciation,  "Thou  art 
the  man."     His   moral  feeling  in   regard   to  his  own 
conduct  was  dead;  but  his  power  of  correct  moral  de- 
cision when  applied  to  another  was  undiminished. 

In  regard  to  the  whole  of  this  subject,  an  important 
distinction  is  to  be  made  between  the  fundamental 
principle  from  which  actions  derive  their  character  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  the  application  of  reason  in  judg- 
ing of  their  tendencies.  Before  concluding  this  pari 
of  the  subject,  therefore,  we  have  to  add  a  very  few 

Which  remains  lonijest  unimpaired,  a  correct  moral  judgment  ui  respect 
to  our  own  conduct,  or  in  re<?pect  to  that  of  others  ?  Interestmg  appeal  to 
this  principle  in  the  Scriptures  ?  Who  were  the  parties  in  this  case  ?  Fun 
;l;iiiienful  distinction  to  be  made  in  considering  this  whole  subject? 


SEC.   I.]  OFFICE    OF    REAJ-ON.  201 

observations  on  the  iuflnence  exerted  on  our  moral 
decisions  by  reason:  always  however  in  subserviency 
to  the  great  principle  of  conscience.  The  office  of  rea- 
son appears  to  be,  in  the  first  place,  to  judge  of  the 
expediency,  propriety,  and  consequences  of  actions, 
which  do  not  involve  any  feeling  of  moral  duty.  In 
regard  to  the  affections,  again,  a  process  of  reason  is 
often  necessary,  not  only  respecting  the  best  mode  of 
exercising  them,  but  also,  in  many  cases,  in  deciding 
whether  we  shall  exercise  them  at  all.  Thus,  we  may 
feel  compassion  in  a  particular  instance,  but  perceive 
the  individual  to  be  so  unworthy,  that  what  we  could 
do  would  be  of  no  benefit  to  him.  In  such  a  case  we 
may  feel  it  to  be  a  matter  not  only  of  prudence,  but  of 
duty,  to  resist  the  affection,  and  to  reserve  the  aid. we 
have  to  bestow  for  persons  more  deserving. 

In  cases  in  which  an  impression  of  moral  duty  is 
concerned,  an  exercise  of  reason  is  still,  in  many  in- 
stances, necessary,  for  enabling  us  to  adapt  our  means 
to  the  end  which  we  desire  to  accomplish.  We  may 
feel  an  anxious  wish  to  promote  the  interest  or  relieve 
the  distress  of  another,  or  to  perform  some  high  and 
important  duty,  but  call  reason  to  our  aid  respecting 
the  most  effectual  and  the  most  judicious  means  of 
doing  so.  Conscience,  in  such  cases,  produces  the 
intention,  reason  suggests  the  means ;  and  it  is  familiar 
to  every  one  that  these  do  not  always  harmonize. 
Thus  a  man  may  be  sound  in  his  intentions,  who  errs 
in  judgment  respecting  the  means  for  carrying  them 


Has  the  reason  any  important  iniluence  ib  our  moral  decisions?  What  is 
primarily  its  office  ?  Its  office  in  regard  to  the  affections  ?  Example.  Ano- 
ther point  in  respect  to  which  exercise  of  reason  is  necessary  ?  Example 
illustrating  this  ? 


202  THE    MORAL    rUINClPLK.  [PAKT   III. 

into  effect.  In  such  cases,  we  attacli  our  leciing  oi 
moral  approbation  to  the  intention  only;  we  say  the 
man  meant  well,  but  erred  in  judgment:  and  to  this 
error  we  atfix  no  feehng  of  moral  disapprobation,  un- 
less, perhaps,  in  some  cases,  we  may  blame  him  for 
acting  precipitately  on  his  own  ju^iument,  instead  of 
taking  the  advice  of  those  qualified  to  direct  him.  We 
expect  such  a  man  to  acquire  wisdom  from  experience, 
by  observing  the  deficiency  of  his  judgment  in  refe- 
rence to  his  intentions;  and,  in  future  instances,  to 
learn  to  take  advice.  There  are  other  circumstances 
in  which  an  exercise  of  reason  is  frequently  brought 
into  action  in  regard  to  moral  decisions : — as  in  some 
cases  in  which  one  duty  appears  to  interfere  with 
another;  likewise  in  judging  whether,  in  particular 
instances,  any  rule  of  duty  is  concerned,  or  whether 
we  are  at  liberty  to  take  up  the  case  simply  as  one 
of  expediency  or  utility.  In  making  their  decisions  in 
doubtful  cases,  of  this  description,  we  observe  great 
diflferences  in  the  habits  of  judging  in  different  indi- 
viduals. One  shows  the  most  minute  and  scrupulous 
anxiety  to  discover  whether  the  case  involves  any 
principle  of  duty,  and  a  similar  anxiety  in  acting 
suitably  when  he  has  discovered  it.  This  is  what  we 
call  a  strictly  conscientious  man.  Another,  who  shows 
no  want  of  a  proper  sense  of  duty  when  the  line  is 
clearly  drawn,  has  less  anxiety  in  such  cases  as  these, 
and  may  sacrifice  minute  or  doubtful  points  to  some 
other  feeling,  as  self-interest,  or  even  friendship,  where 

Distinction  between  the  intenfions  and  llic  means  of  effecting  tlnu  7 
Which  of  these  is  alone  the  object  of  moral  disapprohatjon  ?  Other  circum 
stances  in  which  an  exercise  of  the  reason  is  necessary  '?  Different  habiti 
of  judging? 


SEC.   I.]  OFFICE    OF    REASON.  20o 

the  former  indivic.iial  might  have  discovered  a  prhici- 
ple  of  dutjr. 

Reason  is  also  concerned  in  judging  of  a  description 
of  cases,  in  which  a  modification  of  moral  feehng  arises 
from  the  complexity  of  actions,  or,  in  other  words, 
from  the  circumstances  in  which  the  individual  is 
placed.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  difference  of 
moral  sentiment  which  we  attach  to  the  act  of  taking 
away  the  life  of  another,  when  this  is  done  by  an  in- 
dividual under  the  impulse  of  revenge,  by  the  same 
individual  in  self-defence,  or  by  a  judge  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  public  duty. 

There  is  still  another  office  frequently  assigned  to 
reason  in  moral  decisions, — as  when  we  speak  of  a 
man  acting  upon  reason  as  opposed  to  passion.  This 
however  is,  correctly  speaking,  only  a  different  use  of 
the  term ;  and  it  means  that  he  acts  upon  a  calm  con- 
sideration of  the  motives  by  which  he  ought  to  be  in- 
fluenced, instead  of  being  hurried  away  by  a  desire  or 
an  affection  which  has  been  allowed  to  usurp  undue 
influence. 

The  important  distinction,  therefore,  which  these 
observations  have  been  intended  to  illustrate,  may  be 
briefly  recapitulated  in  the  following  manner.  Our 
impression  of  the  aspect  of  actions,  as  right  or  wrong, 
is  conveyed  by  a  principle  in  the  human  mind  entirely 
distinct  from  a  simple  exercise  of  reason;  and  the  stand- 
ard of  moral  rectitude  derived  from  this  source  is,  in 

Exercise  of  reason  in  respect  to  complex  actions  ?  Does  the  character  of 
an  act  depend  upon  the  circumstances  attending  it  7  Illustrations.  Another 
office  frequently  assigned  to  reason  ?  Recapitulation  of  the  great  distioc 
iion  brought  forward  in  this  discussion  ? 


204  THE    MOKAL    TKINCIPLE.  [PART  III    I 

its  own  nature,  fixed  and  immutable.  But  there  aro 
many  cases  in  which  an  exercise  of  reason  may  be 
employed  in  referring  particular  actions  to  this  stan- 
dard, or  trying  them,  as  it  were,  by  means  of  it.  Any 
such  mental  process,  however,  is  only  to  be  considered 
as  a  kind  of  test  applied  to  individual  instances,  and 
must  not  be  confounded  with  the  standard  to  which  it 
is  the  office  of  this  test  to  refer  them.  Right  or  virtu- 
ous conduct  does,  in  point  of  fact,  contribute  to  general 
utility,  as  well  as  to  the  advantage  of  the  individual, 
in  the  true  and  extended  sense  of  that  term,  and  these 
tendencies  are  perceived  by  reason.  But  it  is  neither 
of  these  that  constitutes  it  right.  This  is  founded  en- 
tirely on  a  different  principle, — the  immutable  rule  of 
moral  rectitude ;  it  is  perceived  by  a  different  part  of 
our  constitution, — the  moral  principle,  or  conscience; 
and,  by  the  operation  of  this  principle,  we  pronounce 
it  right,  without  any  reference  to  its  consequences 
either  to  ourselves  or  others. 

I  cannot  perceive  what  is  gained  by  those  who  refei 
our  moral  decisions  to  a  process  of  reason  or  judgment 
alone.  For  by  judgment,  in  the  ordinary  and  recog- 
nised acceptation  of  the  term,  I  can  understand  nothing 
more  than  a  power  of  comparing  two  or  more  facts  or 
impressions  together,  and  tracing  their  relations.  When 
we  apply  such  a  mental  process  to  a  question  of  morals, 
it  can  amount  to  nothing  more  than  a  comparison  of 
our  conduct  with  some  standard.     If  those  who- hold 

Is  virtuous  conduct,  in  point  of  fact,  conducive  to  utility  ?  Is  this  utility 
what  constitutes  it  virtuous  conduct '?  Upon  what  is  this  founded  ?  and  how 
is  it  perceived  ?     Nature  and  province  of  the  judgment  ? 


SEC.  I.]  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  205 

the  doctrine  referred  to  mean  any  thing  more  than  this, 
if  they  allow  the  mind  a  power  of  moral  decision  inde- 
pendently of  any  such  standard,  then  this  is  precisely 
what  we  mean  by  conscience,  and  the  controversy  re- 
solves itself,  like  not  a  few  that  have  gone  before  it, 
into  a  dispute  about  a  name.  If  they  do  not  allow  the 
mind  such  a  power,  it  then  becomes  them  to  say,  what 
is  the  standard  by  which  its  moral  judgments  are  to  be 
formed,  and  whence  is  it  derived.  It  appears,  I  think, 
distinctly,  that  it  can  be  derived  only  from  one  of  two 
sources.  It  must  either  be  received  through  divine 
revelation;  or  it  must  be  the  result  of  our  speculations 
respecting  utility,  in  one  or  other  of  the  forms  in  which 
that  doctrine  is  presented  to  us.  There  does  not  ap- 
pear to  be  any  middle  course;  and  accordingly,  some 
late  writers,  who  reject  the  latter  system,  while  they 
do  not  admit  the  authority  of  conscience,  seem  to  refer 
our  moral  impressions  entirely  to  the  will  of  the  Deity 
as  made  known  to  us  by  revelation.  I  have  formerly 
stated  what  seem  to  me  to  be  insuperable  objections  to 
this  doctrine.  It  appears,  indeed,  to  be  distinctly  op- 
posed by  the  very  words  of  Scripture,  which  clearly 
recognise  a  power,  or  a  process  in  the  mind,  by  which 
''  those  who  are  without  law,"  that  is,  without  a  reve- 
lation, "area  law  unto  themselves,  their  consciences 
bearing  witness,  and  their  thoughts  accusing  or  else 
excusing  one  another." 

What  can  it  amount  to  when  applied  to  a  question  of  morals  ?  Must 
there  not  be  necessarily  a  standard  to  which  the  judgment  can  refer  moral 
actions  ?  From  what  two  sources  only  can  such  a  standard  he  derived,  if  not 
furnished  by  a  moral  sense  ?  What  difficulty  in  the  way  of  supposing  thai 
ne  Scriptures  themselves  furnish  this  standard  ? 

18 


206  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III 


$  2.— OF  HIE  HARMONY  OF  THE  MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

On  whatever  system  we  may  consider  the  moral 
feelings,  we  perceive  that  there  are  various  classes  of 
them,  each  answering  a  special  purpose,  in  our  rela- 
tions as  accountable  beings.  Some  of  them,  we  have 
seen,  refer  to  objects  of  desire,  the  attainment  of  which 
appears  likely  to  bring  satisfaction.  Others  lead  us  to 
those  relations  which  we  bear  to  our  fellow-men.  A 
third  class,  which  remains  to  be  considered,  calls  our 
attention  to  the  relation  in  which  we  stand  to  the 
moral  governor  of  the  universe,  and  to  a  certain  regu- 
lation of  the  moral  feelings  arising  out  of  this  relation. 
But  there  is  still  another  inquiry  of  the  deepest  interest, 
connected  with  this  subject,  namely,  regarding  the 
harmony  or  principle  of  arrangement,  which  these  va- 
rious classes  of  moral  emotions  ought  to  bear  towards 
each  other.  They  all  form  parts  of  our  constitution, 
and  deserve  a  certain  degree  of  attention,  which  must 
be  carefully  adapted  to  the  relative  importance  of  each ; 
and  the  correct  adjustment  of  this  harmony  is  one  of 
the  objects  to  be  answered  by  the  moral  principle, 
combined  with  a  sound  exercise  of  judgment.  The 
rules  which  apply  to  it  may  be  stated  in  the  following 
manner. 

When  we  consider  man  as  an  immortal  being,  pass- 
ing through  a  course  of  discipline  to  another  state  of 
existence,  it  is  obvious  that  his  highest  consideration 
is  his  own  moral  condition,  and  the  aspect  in  which  he 

Various  classes  of  moral  feelings  ?     Three  great  classes  ?     What  inquiry 
now  arises,  connected  with  this  subject  "^ 


SEC.  II.]  HARMONY    OF    THE    MORAL    FEELINGS  2{l7 

Stands  towards  the  Deity.  In  immediate  connection 
with  this  first  of  all  concerns  are  the  great  and  general 
principles  of  justice  and  veracity,  as  referring  to  our 
connection  with  all  mankind,  and  a  class  of  private 
responsibilities  which  peculiarly  regard  each  individual 
in  his  domestic  relations;  such  as  the  duties  of  children 
to  their  parents,  and  parents  to  their  children; — the 
latter,  particularly,  presenting  a  class  of  the  most 
solemn  kind,  as  it  embraces  the  concerns  of  the  present 
life,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come.  Then  follow  the 
duties  of  benevolence,  friendship,  and  patriotism ;  after 
these,  the  ordinary  avocations  of  life,  as  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge  and  the  pursuits  of  business ;  and  final- 
ly, those  personal  recreations  and  enjoyments,  which, 
when  kept  in  their  proper  place,  are  legitimate  and  ne- 
cessary to  every  human  being.  These  are  all  proper 
and  laudable,  provided  they  are  kept  in  a  proper  sub- 
serviency to  each  other.  But  the  important  conside- 
ration is,  that  a  man  may  be  acting  unworthily  of  his 
moral  nature,  when  he  devotes  himself  to  any  one  of 
them  in  a  manner  which  encroaches  upon  the  harmony 
of  the  whole. 

To  begin  with  the  lowest  of  them ;  it  is  unnecessary 
to  state  how  this  remark  applies  to  the  man  whose  life 
is  devoted  to  pursuits  which  rank  no  higher  than  re- 
creation or  amusement.  It  must  be  obvious  to  every 
one  of  the  smallest  degree  of  reflection,  that  such  a 
man  is  living  only  for  the  present  life.     What  cannot 

The  first  and  highest  object  of  consideration  for  man,  in  respect  to  hi9 
moral  du»ies  ?  Great  class  of  moral  duties  coming  in  immediate  connection 
with  this  ?  Class  of  private  responsibilities  coming  next  ?  What  claf.s  fol- 
'ows  these  ?  The  last  class  ?  Obligation  in  respect  to  them  all  taken  m 
connection  ?     Example  of  undue  interest  in  one  class  of  these  duties  ? 


208  THE    MORAL    PKINC7PLE.  [PART  III. 

be  denied  of  mere  amusement,  must  also  be  admitted 
respecting  a  life  of  business,  however  important  in 
themselves  the  concerns  may  be  which  engross  the 
mind.  They  still  refer  only  to  present  things,  and 
carry  not  the  thoughts  beyond  the  moment  which 
bounds  the  period  of  moral  discipline.  Even  the  en- 
gagements of  benevolence  and  public  usefulness,  esti- 
mable as  they  are,  may  be  allowed  to  usurp  an  im- 
proper place;  and  they  do  so,  if  they  withdraw  the 
attention  from  responsibilities  and  duties  which  belong 
'^more  particularly  to  ourselves  as  individuals, — such 
as  the  duties  of  parents  and  of  children, — and  the  other 
claims  which  arise  out  of  the  relations  of  domestic  life. 
Finally,  it  is  ever  to  be  kept  in  mind,  that  no  engage- 
ments of  any  description  must  be  allowed  to  interfere 
with  obligations  of  the  highest  interest  to  every  man, — 
those  which  relate  to  his  own  moral  condition,  in  the 
sight  of  him  who  is  now  his  witness,  and  will  soon  be 
his  Judge.  From  want  of  due  attention  to  this  con- 
sideration, year  after  year  glides  over  us,  and  life 
hastens  to  its  close,  amid  cares  and  toils  and  anxieties 
which  relate  only  to  the  present  world.  Thus  fame 
may  be  acquired,  or  wealth  accumulated;  or,  after  a 
laborious  ascent,  a  man  may  have  gained  the  height 
of  ambition,  when  the  truth  bursts  upon  him  that  life 
is  nearly  over,  while  its  great  business  is  yet  to  begin, 
— the  preparation  of  the  moral  being  for  an  eternal  ex- 
istence. 


Character  and  condition  of  such  a  man?  Can  any  of  the  higher  classes 
of  duties  usurp  an  improper  place?  How  may  the  duties  of  benevolence  do 
this  ?  General  principle  in  relation  to  the  ascendency  of  religious  duly  1 
Condition  and  prospects  of  the  man  who  neglects  his  religious  duly  ? 


SEC.  If. J  HARMONY    OF    THE    MORAL    FEELINGS.  209 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  on  the  other  hand, 
ihat  attention  to  this  first  of  all  concerns  must  not  be 
allowed  to  estrange  the  mind  from  the  various  duties 
and  responsibilities  of  active  life.  It  is  only,  indeed, 
when  the  conduct  is  regulated  by  partial  and  unsound 
motives,  that  some  of  these  objects  of  attention  are 
allowed  to  usurp  the  place  of  others.  He  who  acts, 
not  from  the  high  principles  of  moral  duty,  but  from  a 
desire  of  notoriety,  or  the  applause  of  men,  may  devote 
himself  to  much  benevolence  and  usefulness  of  a  public 
and  ostensible  kind ;  while  he  neglects  duties  of  a  high- 
er, though  more  private  nature,  and  overlooks  entirely, 
it  may  be,  his  own  moral  condition.  The  ascetic,  on 
the  contrary,  shuts  himself  up  in  his  cell,  and  imagines 
that  he  pleases  God  by  meditation  and  voluntary  aus- 
terities. But  this  is  not  the  part  of  him  who  truly  feels 
his  varied  relations,  and  correctly  estimates  his  true 
responsibilities.  It  is  striking,  also,  to  remark,  how 
the  highest  principles  lead  to  a  charracter  of  harmony 
and  consistency,  which  all  inferior  motives  fail  entirely 
in  producing.  The  man,  who  estimates  most  deeply 
and  correctly  his  own  moral  relations  to  an  ever-present 
and  presiding  Deity,  will  also  feel  his  way  through  the 
various  duties  of  life,  with  a  degree  of  attention  adapt- 
ed to  each  of  them.  In  the  retirements  of  domestic 
life,  he  is  found  in  the  anxious  discharge  of  the  high 
responsibilities  which  arise  oLit  of  its  relations.  He  is 
found  in  the  path  of  private  benevolence  and  public 
usefulness,  manifesting  the  kind  and  brotherly  interest 

Caution  on  the  other  hand  ?  In  what  case  only  is  there  danger  of  this  ? 
Difference  hetween  the  higher  and  the  inferior  principles  of  action,  in  respect 
\.o  the  character  which  they  tend  to  form  ?   . 


210  THE    MORAL    PRINCIPLE.  [PART  III. 

of  one  who  acts  on  the  purest  of  all  motives, — the  love 
of  God,  and  a  principle  of  devotedness  to  his  service. 
Whether  exposed  to  the  view  of  his  fellow-men,  or 
seen  only  by  Him  who  seeth  in  secret,  his  conduct  is 
the  same;  for  the  principles  on  which  he  acts  have,  in 
both  situations,  equal  influence.  In  the  ordinary  con- 
cerns of  life,  the  power  of  these  principles  is  equally 
obvious.  Whether  he  engage  in  its  business,  or  par- 
take of  its  enjoyments ;  whether  he  encounter  its  diffi- 
culties, or  meet  its  pains,  disappointments,  and  sorrows; 
he  walks  through  the  whole  with  the  calm  dignity  of 
one  who  views  all  the  events  of  the  present  life  in  their 
immediate  reference  to  a  life  which  is  to  come. 

The  high  consistency  of  character,  which  results 
from  this  regulated  condition  of  the  moral  feelings, 
tends  thus  to  promote  a  due  attention  to  the  various 
responsibilities  connected  with  the  situation  in  which 
the  individual  is  placed.  It  does  so,  by  leading  him, 
with  anxious  consideration,  to  feel  his  way  through 
these  requirements,  and  to  recognise  the  supreme  au- 
thority of  conscience  over  his  whole  moral  system.  It 
does  so,  especially,  by  habitually  raising  his  views  to 
the  eternal  One,  who  is  the  witness  of  all  his  conduct, 
and  to  whom  he  is  responsible  for  his  actions  in  each 
relation  of  life.  It  thus  tends  to  preserve  him  from  all 
those  partial  and  inconsistent  courses,  into  which  men 
are  led  by  the  mere  desire  of  approbation,  or  love  of 


Effect  of  religious  principle  on  the  conduct  and  character?  Its  influence 
on  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  life  ?  Effect  of  this  consistency  of  character  ? 
Two  ways  by  which  it  produces  these  effects  ?  From  what  dangers  does  il 
iefcnd  men  ? 


SEC.  II.]  HARMONY    OF    THE    MORAL    FEELINGS.  211 

distinction,  or  by  any  other  of  those  inferior  motives 
which  are  really  resolvable  into  self-love. 

Such  uniformity  of  moral  feehng  is  equally  opposed 
to  another  distortion  of  character,  not  less  at  variance 
with  a  sound  condition  of  the  mind.  This  is  what  may 
be  called  religious  pretension,  showing  itself  by  much 
zeal  for  particular  opinions  and  certain  external  ob- 
servances, while  there  is  no  corresponding  influence 
upon  the  moral  feelings  and  the  character.  The  truths 
which  form  the  great  object  of  religious  belief  are  of  so 
momentous  a  kind,  that,  when  they  are  really  believed, 
they  cannot  fail  to  produce  effects  of  the  most  decided 
and  most  extensive  nature ;  and  where  this  influence 
is  not  steadily  exhibited,  there  is  a  fatal  error  in  the 
moral  economy, — there  is  either  self-deception,  or  an 
intention  to  deceive  others.  From  such  inconsistency 
of  character  arises  an  evil,  which  has  a  most  injurious 
influence  upon  two  descriptions  of  persons.  Those  of 
one  class  are  led  to  assign  an  undue  importance  to  the 
profession  of  a  peculiar  creed  and  the  mere  externals 
of  religion^  — to  certain  observances  which  are  consider- 
ed as  characteristic  of  a  particular  party,  and  to  absti- 
nence from  certain  indulgences  or  pursuits  which  that 
party  disapprove.  Those  of  the  other  class,  finding, 
in  many  instances,  much  zeal  for  these  peculiarities, 
without  a  state  of  moral  feeling  adapted  to  the  truths 
which  are  professed,  are  apt  to  consider  the  whole  as 
either  pretence  or  delusion. 

Another  faulty  trait  to  which  this  harmony  of  character  is  opposed  ?  The 
genuine  influence  of  religious  truth  ?  When  this  effect  is  not  produced  how 
must  we  account  for  it  ?  Two  classes  of  persons  injuriously  affected  by  thu 
inconsistency  of  character  ? 


212  THE    MORAL    PKINCIPLE.  [PART  III. 

In  their  mutual  error  there  is  to  both  matter  of  im- 
portant warning.  It  becomes  the  latter  to  beware,  lest, 
misled  by  the  failings  of  weak  or  inconsistent  men, 
they  withdraw  their  attention  from  truths  of  solemn 
import  to  themselves  as  moral  beings.  There  may  be 
much  pretension  where  there  is  no  real  feeling;  but  are 
they  from  this  entitled  to  infer,  there  is  not  a  reality  in 
that  which  these  pretenders  counterfeit]  By  a  slight 
gilding,  articles  of  trifling  value  are  made  to  assume 
the  appearance  of  gold;  but  would  it  be  reasonable  to 
contend,  that  there  are  no  articles  of  intrinsic  worth 
which  these  are  made  to  imitate  ?  The  fair  induction 
is,  in  both  instances,  the  opposite.  Were  there  no  such 
articles  of  pure  gold,  this  ingenuity  would  not  be  em- 
ployed in  fabricating  base  imitations;  and  the  hypocrite 
would  not  assume  qualities  he  does  not  possess,  were 
there  not  real  virtues,  from  a  resemblance  to  which  he 
hopes  to  procure  for  his  character  that  ostensible  value 
which  may  enable  it  to  deceive.  But  let  those  who 
have  detected  this  deception  beware  of  founding  upon 
it  conclusions  which  it  does  not  warrant.  They  have 
not  found  the  reality  here,  but  there  is  not  the  less  a 
pure  and  high  standard  which  claims  their  utmost  re- 
gard. If  they  search  for  it  either  among  inconsistent 
or  among  designmg  men,  they  seek  the  living  among 
the  dead.  Let  them  contemplate  it  especially  as  it  is 
displayed  in  the  character  of  the  Messiah  :  in  him  it 
was  exhibited  in  a  manner  which  demands  the  imita- 

Caution  to  he  given  to  the  latter?  Is  the  existence  of  the  counterfeit  any 
proof  that  there  is  no  reality?  The  author's  illustration  of  this  subject? 
What  is  in  fact  the  fair  inference  from  the  existence  of  a  counterfeit?  False 
conclusion  founded  upon  the  discovery  of  such  deception  ?  Where  are  we 
to  look  for  the  real  standard  of  moral  excellence? 


SEC.   IT. J  HARMONY    OF    THE    MOItAL    FEE  .INGS.  213 

tioii  of  every  rational  man,  while  it  challenges  the  cor- 
dial assent  of  the  most  acute  understaading,  that  this 
IS  the  perfection  of  a  moral  being 

On  the  other  hand,  let  those,  who  j  rofess  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  highest  of  all  motives,  study  to  exhibit 
their  habitual  influence  in  a  con?iste?it  uniformity  of 
the  whole  character.  It  is  easy  to  acquire  a  peculiar 
phraseology,  to  show  much  zeal  for  peculiar  opinions, 
and  rigid  attention  to  peculiar  obse/vt'.nces;  and,  among 
a  party,  it  is  not  diflicult  to  procure  a  name,  by  con- 
demning certain  other  compliances  which  by  them  are 
technically  styled  the  manners  ol  '.he  world.  But  all 
this,  it  is  evident,  may  be  assp./'.d;  it  may  be,  and 
probably  often  is,  no  bette:  .lan  a  name;  it  often 
amounts  to  nothing  more  than  substituting  one  kind 
^t'  excitement  for  another,  while  the  moral  being  con- 
mues  unchanged.  True  religion  is  seated  in  the  heart, 
and  sends  out  from  thence  a  purifying  influence  over 
the  whole  character.  In  its  essential  nature  it  is  a 
contest  within,  open  only  to  the  eye  of  Him  who  seeth 
■n  secret.  It  seeks  not,  therefore,  the  applause  of  m(ui; 
and  it  shrinks  from  that  spurious  religionism  whose 
j)rominent  characters  are  talk,  and  pretension,  and  ex- 
ternal observance,  often  accompanied  by  uncharitaoie 
censure.  Like  its  divine  pattern,  it  is  meek  arid  lowly, 
'it  is  pure  and  peaceable,  gentle  and  easy  to  be  en- 
treated, full  of  mercy  and  of  good  fruits,  without  par- 
tiality, and  without  hypocrisy."  It  aims  not  at  an 
DStentatious  display  of  principles,  but  at  a  steady  exhi- 

Caution  to  the  other  class?  Ease  with  which  the  semblance  of  rolls' oji 
may  be  assumed  ?  The  true  seat,  and  the  proper  influence  of  real  reliijiuu  ? 
[ts  characteristics  as  descril)ed  in  the  Scriptures  ? 


214  THE    MORAL  PRINCIPLF,.  [PART   III. 

bition  of  fruits.  Qualities  which  il  cultivates  with  e.s- 
pecial  care,  are  humility,  and  charity,  and  mercy,  the 
mortification  of  every  selfish  passion,  and  the  denial 
of  every  selfish  indulgence.  When  thus  exhibited  in 
its  true  and  genuine  characters,  it  commands  the  re- 
spect of  every  sound  understanding,  and  challenges  the 
assent  of  all  to  its  reality  and  its  truth,  as  the  highest 
principle  that  can  regulate  the  conduct  of  a  moral 
being. 

The  traits  of  character  which  it  tends  to  form  7 


PART   III, 


OF  THE  MORAL  RELATION  OF  MAN 
TOWARDS  THE  DEITY. 


The  healthy  state  of  a  moral  being  is  strikingly  refer- 
red, in  the  sacred  writings,  to  three  great  heads, — jus- 
tice, benevolence,  and  a  conformity  of  the  moral  feelings 
to  a  reverential  sense  of  the  presence  and  perfections  of 
the  Deity;  "to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk 
humbly  with  thy  God."  The  two  former  of  these 
considerations  lead  us  to  the  duties  wl  ich  a  mar  owes 
to  his  fellow-men;  the  latter  calls  our  attention  la  that 
homage  of  the  mind  and  of  the  heart  which  h(  owes 
peculiarly  to  God.  For  the  duties  of  the  forme;  class 
we  are  equally  responsible  to  him,  as  the  moral  g  -vern- 
or  of  the  universe,  but  their  immediate  reference  is  to 
our  connections  with  other  men;  those  of  the  latter 
class  respect  our  relation  to  the  Deity  himself,  and 
consequently  consist,  in  a  great  measure,  in  the  purity 
and  devotedness  of  the  mind.     In  human  systems  of 

Recapitulate  the  general  plan  of  this  work  as  given  at  the  commencement 
What  branch  of  it  comes  now  to  be  treated  of?  Three  great  heads  lo  wliicl 
inorEil  duty  is  referred  in  the  Scriptures  ? 


216  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [pART  IV 

ethics,  attention  has  been  chiefly  directed  to  the  obhga- 
tions  of  social  and  relative  morality;  but  the  two  classes 
are  closely  associated  in  the  sacred  writings;  and  tlie 
sound  condition  of  the  moral  feelings  is  pointed  out  as 
that  acquirement  which,  along  with  a  corresponding 
integrity  of  character,  qualifies  man,  in  an  especial 
manner,  for  intercourse  with  the  Deity.  "  Who  shall 
ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord,  or  who  Shall  stand  in 
his  holy  place?  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart,  who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto  vanity,  nor 
sworn  deceitfully."  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for 
they  shall  see  God." 

Such  declarations  challenge  the  assent  and  absolute 
conviction  of  every  sound  understanding,  ^re  we,  as 
responsible  creatures,  placed  in  immediate  relation  to  a 
great  moral  governor,  a  being  of  infinite  purity  and 
boundless  perfections?  is  the  structure  of  our  bodies, 
and  the  still  more  wonderful  fabric  of  our  minds,  alike 
the  work  of  his  hand?  then  it  is  impossible  to  put  away 
from  us  the  impression,  that  each  movement  of  these 
miikds  must  be  fully  exposed  to  his  inspection.  It  is 
equally  impossible  to  repel  from  us  the  solemn  truth, 
that  it  is  by  the  desires,  the  feelings,  and  the  motives 
of  action  which  exist  there,  that  our  condition  is  to  be 
estimated  in  his  sight:  and  that  a  man,  whose  conduct 
to  his  fellow-men  does  not  violate  propriety  and  justice, 
may  be  in  a  stave  of  moral  degradation  in  the  eyes  of 
him  whoseeth  in  secret;  "for,"  says  the  sacred  writer, 


To  which  of  these  heads  has  the  attention  lieen  chiefly  directed  in  human 
treatises?  View  which  the  Bible  takes  of  the  subject.  Quotatious?  Coii- 
sidtrations  showing  the  reasonableness  of  this  1 


rfRT  IV.J  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  217 

"mail   looketh   on    the   outward   appearance,    but    the 
Lord  looketh  on  the  heart.'" 

There  cannot,  therefore,  be  an  inquiry  of  more  in- 
tense interest,  than  what  is  that  condition  of  the  heart 
and  of  the  mind  which  every  man  ought  to  seek  after, 
when  he  considers  himself  a^  exposed  to  the  continual 
inspection  of  the  Almighty.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  brief- 
ly referred  to  the  following  heads. 

I.  A  habitual  effort  to  cultivate  a  sense  of  the  divine 
presence,  and  a  habitual  desire  to  have  the  whole 
moral  condition  regulated  by  this  impression.  It  im- 
plies, therefore,  sacred  respect  to  the  character  of  the 
Deity,  and  is  opposed  to  every  kind  of  profaneness,  or 
aught  by  which  one  might  weaken,  in  himself  or 
others,  the  reverential  feeling  due  tov/ards  the  charac- 
ter, and  even  the  name  of  the  Almighty.  This  mast 
be  extended  not  to  the  outward  conduct  alone,  but  to 
the  desires  and  affections  of  the  heart.  There  is  a  state 
of  mind,  formerly  referred  to,  in  which  a  desire,  which 
the  moral  feelings  disapprove,  may  not  be  followed  by 
volition;  while  the  desire  is  still  indulged,  and  the 
mind  is  allowed  to  cherish  it  with  some  feeling  of  re- 
gret, or  even  to  luxuriate -with  a  sense  of  pleasure  in 
the  imaginary  gratification.  In  the  same  manner,  a 
malevolent  affection  to  our  fellow-men  may  be  checked 
from  producing  injurious  conduct,  while  the  feeling 
still  rankles  in  the  heart,  in  the  form  of  envy  or  hatred. 
These  mental  conditions,  while  they  are  widely  at  va- 

Great  and  important  inquiry  arising  from  this  view  of  the  subject  ?  First 
e^eatduly?  How  much  is  implied  in  a  constant  sense  of  the  divine  pre- 
sence ?  Can  the  soul  be  in  a  state  of  guilt,  while  there  is  no  outward  guilty 
iction  ?     How  ? 

19 


218  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  .  PART  IV.J 

riance  with  the  heahhy  state  of  a  rational  and  respon- 
sible being,  must  be  regarded  by  the  Deity  as  consti- 
tuting moral  guilt  and  moral  degradation.  Nor  is  it 
only  on  the  mind  which  cherishes  malevolent  passions 
and  impure  desires  and  imaginations,  that  the  Holy 
Cne  must  look  with  a  feeling  of  condemnation.  There 
ma}'"  be  another  mental  condition,  in  which  the  thoughts 
and  desires  are  directed  to  transient  and  frivolous  ob- 
jects, and  thus  run  to  waste  amid  the  trifles  of  the 
passing  hour,  without  any  feeling  of  the  truths  and 
motives  which  demand  the  attention  of  moral  beings. 
The  pursuits.of  such  a  man  may  have  nothing  in  them 
that  is  referable  either  to  impure  desire  or  malevolent 
affection.  They  may  be  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  the 
grasp  after  power,  the  love  of  distinction,  or  a  devoted- 
ness  to  merely  trivial  occupations;  while  there  is  a 
total  neglect  of  those  great  concerns  which  really  de- 
mand our  chief  and  highest  regard.  Amid  the  legiti- 
mate and  even  the  laudable  pursuits  of  ordinary  life, 
we  are  too  apt  to  lose  sight  of  those  duties  and  respon- 
sibilities which  attend  a  state  of  moral  discipline,  and 
that  culture  of  the  soul  required  as  a  preparation  for 
the  future  state  of  existence  to  which  we  are  hastening. 
But  we  cannot  doubt  that  these  considerations  bear  an 
important  aspect  in  the  eye  of  the  Deity;  and  that  the 
mind  in  which  they  hold  not  a  habitual  influence  is 
contemplated  by  him  as  in  a  state  of  moral  destitution. 
There  are,  accordingly,  two  classes  of  characters 
clearly  pointed  out  in  the   sacred  writings, — namely, 


In  what  other  way  may  there  he  sin  in  the  direction  of  the  thoughts  and 
desires '?  Great  danger  to  which  we  are  always  exposed  in  the  common 
duties  of  life  ? 


PART  IV. J  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  219 

one  m  wliom  the  outward  conduct  indicates  the  de- 
pravity within,  and  another,  in  whom  the  external 
character  preserves  a  respectable  aspect  in  the  estima- 
tion of  men,  while  the  moral  feelings  are  in  a  corrupted 
condition  in  the  sight  of  God.  We  have  formerly 
endeavored  to  trace  the  laws  to  which  this  fact  is  to 
be  referred,  on  the  principles  of  the  philosophy  of  the 
human  mind:  they  are  chiefly  two.  (1.)  We  have 
seen  that  there  are  orig  nal  principles  in  our  nature, 
which  lead  to  a  certain  exercise  of  justice,  veracity, 
and  benevolence,  independently  of  any  recognition  of 
divine  authority.  They  are  a  part  of  our  moral  consi-i- 
tution,  and  calculated  to  promote  important  purposes 
in  the  harmony  of  human  society;  and  they  carry  along 
with  them  a  certain  principle  of  reciprocal  compensa- 
tion, which  is  entirely  distinct  from  any  impression  of 
their  moral  aspect.  The  man  who  is  deficient  in  them, 
indeed,  incurs  guilt,  but  a  certain  discharge  of  them 
may  arise  from  mere  natural,  or  even  selfish  feeling, 
unconnected  with  any  sense  of  responsibility ;  and  this 
consequently  conveys  no  impression  of  moral  approba- 
tion. In  the  very  exercise  of  them  a  man  receives  his 
reward,  partly  by  a  feeling  of  satisfaction,  which,  from 
the  constitution  of  his  nature,  they  are  calculated  to 
yield,  and  partly  as  a  member  of  that  community 
where  they  promote  peace,  and  order,  and  harmony; 
and  he  is  not  entitled  to  look  farther,  or  to  claim  from 


Two  classes  of  characters  pointed  out  in  the  Scriptures  ?  Fipfit  considera- 
tion in  explanation  of  this  ?  Great  leading  feature  in  the  constitution  of 
man,  in  respect  to  moral  principles  ?  Can  there  be  a  deficiency  of  these 
prmciples  without  guilt  ?  Does  a  compliance  with  them  always  awaken 
moral  approbatioa  towards  the  individual  ?  ^  hy  not  ?  Present  reward  foi 
\he  exercise  of  them  ? 


220  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV 

them  any  feeling  of  merit  in  the  sight  of  the  Deity 
(2.)  A  second  principle,  which  bears  an  important  re-  ' 
lation  to  this  subject,  is  the  manner  in  which  a  man's  i 
character  is  influenced   by  the  partiwilar   motive  or 
pursuit  to  which  he  has  resigned  the  guidance  of  his 
conduct.     One  surrenders  himself  to  the  animal  pro-  . 
pensiiies,  and  becomes  a  selfish  profligate,  insensible  ; 
to  every  right  principle  of  action,  while  his  depraved 
condition  is  obvious  to  all  around  him.     A  second  de- 
votes himself  to  ambition;  and  a  third  to  avarice:  these 
ruling  passions,  it  may  be,  are  found  to  be  adverse  to 
the  selfish  indulgence  and  open  profligacy  of  the  for- 
mer; and  a  character  may  arise  out  of  them  distin- 
guished by  much  that  is  decent,  and  respectable,  and 
worthy  of  approbation  in  the  eye  of  man.     In  a  fourth, 
the  ruling  motive  may  be  the  desire  of  esteem  and 
approbation;  and  this  may,  and  often  does,  become  a 
principle  of  such  influence,  as  to  overpower,  in  a  great 
measure,   the    selfish   propensities,   and    to  produce   a 
character  estimable  not  only  for  justice  and  veracity, 
but  a  high  degree  of  active  benevolence.     Such  a  man 
sacrifices   to  his  ruling  passion  much    that  might  be 
turned  to  the  purposes  of  ambition,  avarice,  or  selfish 
indulgence,  by  those  who  are  guided  by  these  propen- 
sities; and,  in  doing  so,  he  has  his  reward.     He  finds 
it  in  the  gratification  of  that  principle  which  in  him 
has  become  predominant;  and,  rather  than  forfeit  th 
esteem  of  those  whose  approbation  he  values,  he  wil 
submit  to  much  personal  exertion,  and  sacrifice  muc 

Second   consideration.     Various   objects  of   pursuit.     Way   lu   which 
grciit  ruling  motive  may  influence  the  character?     May  the  character 
conuucl  be  thus  improved  without  any  recog-nition  of  divine  authority  ? 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  221 

selfish  advantage,  which  others  might  deem  highly 
worthy  of  attainment.  But  all  this  may  go  on  without 
any  recognition  of  divine  authority:  and  may  all  exist 
in  a  man  in  whom  there  is  much  impurity  of  desire, 
and  much  deficiency  of  moral  "feeling.  It  is  all  refera- 
ble to  a  motive  of  a  personal  nature,  and,  in  the  grati- 
fication of  this,  his  ruling  principle  is  satisfied. 

The  state  of  mind  which  is  under  the  influence  of  a 
habitual  sense  of  the  divine  presence  may,  therefore, 
be  considered  under  two  relations, — the  one  referring 
more  immediately  to  the  Deity,  the  other  to  our  fellow- 
men.  The  former  seems  chiefly  to  include  an  eflbrt  to 
have  every  desire,  thought,  and  imagination  of  the  heart, 
regulated  by  a  sense  of  the  presence  and  the  purity  of 
God,  and  in  conformity  to  his  will.  Amid  much  feel- 
ing of  deficiency  in  these  respects,  it  leads  our  attention 
to  that  interesting  mental  condition,  in  which  there  is 
a  contest  and  a  warfare  within,  and  a  prevailing  oppo- 
sition to  every  thing  that  is  at  variance  with  the  purity 
of  a  moral  being.  The  second  division  includes  the 
cultivation  of  feelings  of  kindness  and  benevolence 
towards  all  men; — the  love  of  justice,  the  love  of  truth, 
the  love  of  peace,  the  forgiveness  of  injuries,  the  morti- 
fication of  selfishness;  in  a  word,  the  earnest  and  habi- 
tual desire  to  promote  the  comfort  and  alleviate  the 
distresses  of  others.  From  these  two  mental  conditions 
must  spring  a  character,  distinguished  alike  by  piety 
towards  God,  and  by  high  integrity,  benevolence,  and 
active    usefulness   towards    man.     He   who  earnestly 


Is  the  motive  a  selfish  one  after  all  ?  Two  relations  under  which  the  ha- 
bit iial  sense  of  the  presence  of  the  Deity  is  to  be  considered  ?  Effects  result^ 
£ig  from  the  former?     Effects  resulting  from  the  latter  ? 

19^ 


222  THK    MORAI,    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  I*'. 

cultivates  this  purity  within,  feels  that  he  requires 
continual  watchfulness,  and  a  constant  direction  of  the 
mind  to  those  truths  and  moral  causes  which  are  calcu- 
lated to  influence  his  volitions.  He  feels  farther  that 
he  is  in  need  of  a  might  not  his  own  in  this  high  de- 
sign; but  for  this  he  knows  also  he  can  look,  with 
humble  confidence  and  hope,  when,  under  a  sense  of 
moral  weakness,  he  asks  its  powerful  aid. 

11.  A  humble  and  dutiful  submission  to  the  appoint- 
ments of  Providence,  as  part  of  a  great  system  which 
is  regulated  by  infinite  wisdom.  The  man,  who  bears 
upon  his  mind  this  sublime  impression,  has  learnt  to 
contemplate  the  Almighty  One  as  disposing  of  the 
events  of  the  lower  world,  and  assigning  to  each  of  hia 
rational  creatures  the  place  which  he  occupies.  That 
place,  whatever  it  may  be,  he  perceives  has  attached 
to  it  special  duties  and  responsibilities,  and  calls  for 
the  cultivation  of  moral  qualities  peculiarly  adapted  to 
it.  Is  it  one  of  comfort,  wealth,  or  influence, — solemn 
obligations  arise  out  of  the  means  of  usefulness  which 
these  command.  Is  it  one  of  humble  life,  privation,  or 
actual  suflfering, — each  of  these  also  has  its  peculiar 
duties,  and  each  is  to  be  contemplated  as  belonging  to 
a  great  system  of  moral  discipline,  in  which  no  part 
can  be  wanting  in  consistency  with  the  harmony  of  the 
whole.  Such  a  submission  of  the  soul  to  the  appoint-- 
mentsof  God  does  not  preclude  the  use  of  all  legitimate 
means  for  bettering  our  condition,  or  for  preventing  or; 

Charncter  resulting  from  the  two  ?  Second  great  duty  m  respect  to  Got!  ? 
View  which  the  religious  mau  takes  of  God's  superintending  providence  ? 
Various  duties  arising  out  of  the  various  stations  of  life?  Does  submission 
to  the  will  of  God  discourage  exertion  ? 


FART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  222 

removing  sources  of  distress.  But  when,  under  the 
proper  use  of  such  means,  these  are  not  removed,  it 
leads  us  habitually  to  that  higher  power,  to  whose  will 
all  such  attempts  must  be  subservient;  and,  while  it 
elevates  our  thoughts  above  present  events  and  second 
causes,  it  reminds  us  of  that  great  scheme  of  discipline 
through  which  we  are  passing,  and  the  purposes  which 
these  events  are  calculated  to  promote  in  our  own  moral 
improvement.  Viewed  under  such  feelings,  the  ills  of 
life  lose  that  aspect  in  which  we  are  too  apt  to  contem- 
plate them;  and  will  be  considered  with  new  and 
pecuhar  interest,  as  essential  to  that  system,  the  great 
object  of  which  is  to  prepare  and  purify  us  for  a  higher 
state  of  being. 

III.  A  sense  of  moral  imperfection  and  guilt,  and 
that  humility  and  devout  self-abasement  which  arise 
out  of  it.  This  must  be  a  prominent  feeling  in  every 
one  who  views  his  own  conduct,  and  his  mental  emo- 
tions, in  reference  to  the  purity  of  God.  It  naturally 
leads  to  supplication  for  his  mercy  and  forgiveness; 
and,  in  the  wondrous  display  of  his  character,  given 
in  the  sacred  writings,  a  provision  is  disclosed,  in  vir- 
tue of  which  the  exercise  of  mercy  is  made  consistent 
with  the  truth  and  justice  of  a  moral  governor.  This 
dispensation  of  peace  we  find  habitually  represented  a 
adapted  to  man  in  a  state  of  spiritual  destitution ;  ana 
no  mental  condition  is  more  frequently  referred  to,  as 
acceptable  with  the  Deity,  than  that  which  consists  of 


What  is  its  proper  influence  ?  Effect  of  it  upon  our  view  of  the  ills  of  life  7 
Third  great  duty  of  religion?  The  result  to  which  this  feeling  leads  7  Con 
trition,  hew  regarded  in  the  sight  of  God  ? 


224  THE  MORAL  RELATION  OF  MAN      [PART  IV 

contrition  and  lowliness  of  mind.  ''Thus  sayeth  the 
high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose 
name  is  Holy;  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place, 
with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit, 
to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to  revive  the 
heart  of  the  contrite  ones."  AVith  this  state  of  mind 
is  very  naturally  associated  a  sense  of  moral  weakness, 
and  a  constant  reliance  on  divine  aid,  both  for  direction 
through  life,  and  for  the  culture  of  the  moral  being. 

•   IV.   It  is  only  necessary  to  add,  a  profound  sense  of 
gratitude  and  love  towards  the  Deity  as  the  giver  of 
all  good,  as  our  daily  preserver  and  benefactor.    These 
feelings  will  have   a  special  reference  to  the  display 
which  he  has  given  of  his  character,  as  merciful,  gra- 
cious, and  slow  to  anger;  and  to  the  provision  which 
he  has  made  for  the  recovery  and  restoration  of  his 
fallen  creatures,  through  "  God  manifest  in  the  flesh. 
Of  this  divine  person,  and  the  work  which  he  came  to 
accomplish,  philosophy  presumes  not  to  speculate;  but 
we  have  seen  the  light  afforded,  by  the  inductions  of 
moral  science,  respecting  the  probability  of  this  revela-j 
lion,  and  its  adaptation  to  the  actual  state  of  man  in 
his  relation  to  the  Deity.    We  have  seen  the  impression  ■ 
conveyed  by  the  character  of  the  Messiah,  considered 
merely  as  matter  of  historical  truth,  exhibiting  such  aj 
pattern  as  never  appeared  in  our  world,  except  in  liim,, 
of  a  pure  and  perfect  moral  being.     We  have  seen,,^ 
farther,   the  incontrovertible  nature  of  that  evidenced 


Quotation.  Fourth  great  duty.  What  should  he  the  great  suhject  of  tht 
gratitude  of  men?  Can  philosophy  give  us  any  light  respecting  this  great 
transaction  ?     Does  philosophy  furnish  us  any  presumption  in  its  (avor  ? 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  225 

transmitted  by  testimony,  and  confirmed,  as  it  is,  in  a 
very  peculiar  manner,  by  periodical  observances,  on 
which  the  whole  revelation  is  supported;  and  the  in- 
ductions of  sound  philosophy  harmonize  with  the  im- 
Dressions  of  the  man,  who,  feeling  his  own  moral 
aecessities,  yields  his  cordial  assent  to  this  mystery  of 
God,  and  seeks  in  its  provisions  his  peace  in  the  life 
that  now  is,  and  his  hope  for  the  life  that  is  to  come. 

From  the  whole  mental  condition,  thus  slightly  de- 
lineated, there  will  naturally  arise  a  character  and  con- 
duct adapted  to  the  feelings  and  principles  which  ruk 
within.  This  implies,  as  we  have  seen,  a  due  regula- 
tion of  the  desires,  and  a  habitual  direction  of  them  to 
objects  of  real  and  adequate  importance;  a  diligent 
cultivation  and  exercise  of  all  the  affections;  and  a 
conduct  distinguished,  in  the  highest  degree,  by  purity, 
integrity,  veracity,  and  active  benevolence.  It  implies 
a  profound  submission  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty, 
which  puts  to  silence  every  murmuring  or  repining 
thought  under  any  dispensation  of  his  providence.  It 
comprehends  the  habitual  suppression  of  every  selfish 
principle,  and  the  constant  aspiration  after  a  state  of 
moral  feeling,  which  proposes  to  itself  no  lower  stan- 
dard than  that  which  will  bear  the  inspection  of  a 
being  of  infinite  purity.  This  cl^aracter  seems  to  cor- 
respond with  that  high  tone  of  morals  enjoined  in  the 
sacred  writings.  Its  elements  are  defined  and  clear. 
Would  we  seek  to  estimate  its  sublimity  and  its  truth, 


Evidence  on  which  the  reception  of  a  Savior  is  grounded?  The  character 
resulting  frnr  1  these  principles  ?  Its  leading  traits?  Its  great  ruling  prin- 
tiple  ? 


226  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV 

we  have  only  to  compare  it  with  tiiose  distorted  and 
temporizing  systems  which  have  resulted  from  the 
inventions  of  men.  A  feehng  of  dissatisfaction,  the 
same  in  kind,  though  it  may  differ  in  degree,  will  at- 
tach to  them  all;  and  there  is  none  in  which  we  can 
confidently  rest,  until  we  rise  to  the  sublime  morality 
of  the  gospel.  That  great  system  of  ethical  purity 
comes  to  us  under  the  sanction  of  divine  revelation, 
and  established  by  the  miraculous  evidence  by  which 
the  proof  of  this  is  conveyed;  but  it  is  independent  of 
any  other  support  than  that  which  it  carries  in  itself, — 
consistency  with  the  character  of  God,  and  harmony 
with  the  best  feelings  of  man.  In  yielding  an  absolute 
consent  to  its  supreme  autliority,  we  require  no  exter- 
nal evidence.  We  have  only  to  look  at  the  record  in 
its  own  majestic  simplicity,  tried  by  the  highest  induc- 
tions of  the  philosophy  of  the  moral  feelings,  to  enable 
us  to  point  to  the  morality  of  the  gospel,  and  to  say 
with  unshrinking  confidence,  this  is  truth. 

If  we  would  seek  for  that  which  must  be  of  all  con- 
ceivable things  of  the  highest  moment  both  for  the 
peace  and  the  improvement  of  the  moral  being,  it  is  to 
be  found  in  the  habit  of  mind,  in  which  there  is  the 
uniform  contemplation  of  the  divine  character,  with  a 
constant  reliance  on  the  guidance  of  the  Almighty  in 
every  action  of  life.  "One  thing,"  says  an  inspired 
writer,  "have  I  desired  ol  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek 
after;  that  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of  tlie  Lord  all  the 

Can  a  character  truly  excellent  he  formed  on  any  lower  principles  ?  Dou- 
ble evidence  in  favor  of  the  ethical  system  of  revelation  ?  Would  the  inter- 
na! '•vidence  he  sufficient  of  itself  without  the  external?  What  state  of 
mind  furnishes  the  highest  means  of  mental  peace  and  moral  improvement  1 
Quotation  from  the  Sciiptures  ? 


PAKT.   IV.]  TOWAUDS    THE    DEITY.  227 

days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the  beauty  of  tlie  Lord,  and 
to  inqiure  iii  his  temple."  The  man  who  thus  culti- 
vates the  habitual  impression  of  the  divine  presence, 
lives  in  an  atmosphere  peculiarly  his  own.  The  storms 
which  agitate  the  lower  world  may  blow  around  or 
beneath,  but  they  touch  not  him;  as  the  traveller  has 
seen  from  the  mountain's  top  the  war  of  elements  be- 
low, while  he  stood  in  unclouded  sunshine.  In  the 
works,  and  Avays,  and  perfections  of  the  Eternal  One, 
he  finds  a  subject  of  exalted  contemplation,  in  compari- 
son with  which  the  highest  inquiries  of  human  science 
sink  into  insignificance.  It  is  an  exercise,  also,  which 
tends  at  once  to  elevate  and  to  purify  the  mind.  It 
raises  us  from  the  minor  concerns  and  transient  inter- 
ests which  are  so  apt  to  occupy  us,  to  that  wondrous 
field  in  which  "worlds  on  worlds  compose  one  uni- 
verse," and  to  that  mind  which  bade  them  move  in 
their  appointed  orbits,  and  maintains  them  all  in  unde- 
viating  harmony.  While  it  thus  teaches  us  to  bend  in 
humble  adoration  before  a  wisdom  which  we  cannot 
fathom,  and  a  power  which  we  cannot  comprehend,  it 
directs  our  attention  to  a  display  of  moral  attributes 
which  at  once  challenge  our  reverence  and  demand  oui 
imitation.  By  thus  leading  us  to  compare  ourselves 
with  the  supreme  excellence,  it  tends  to  produce  true 
humility,  and,  at  the  same  time,  that  habitual  aspiration 
after  moral  improvement  which  constitutes  the  highest 
state  of  man.  "The  proud,"  says  an  eloquent  writer, 
"look  down  upon  the  earth,  and  see  nothing  that  creeps 

Feelings  and  character  of  the  man  who  lives  in  this  state  ?  His  views  of 
God  ?  Influence  of  such  contemplations  of  the  Deity  ?  Double  effect  pro 
duced  by  it  ? 


i\ 


22S  THE    xMORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PAKT   IV. 

upOD  its  surface  more  noble  than  themselves;  the  hum- 
ble look  upwards  to  their  God."  This  disposition  of 
mind,  so  far  from  being  opposed  to  the  acquirements 
of  philosophy,  sits  with  peculiar  grace  upon  the  man 
who,  through  the  most  zealous  cultivation  of  human 
science,  ascends  to  the  eternal  cause.  The  farther  he 
advances  in  the  wonders  of  nature,  the  higher  he  rises  in 
his  adoration  of  the  power  and  the  wisdom  which  guide 
the  whole;  "Where  others  see  a  sun,  he  sees  a  Dei4y." 
And  then,  in  every  step  of  life,  whether  of  danger,  dis- 
tress, or  difficulty,  the  man  who  cultivates  this  iuter- 
course  with  the  incomprehensible  One  "inquires  in 
his  temple."  He  inquires  for  the  guidance  of  divine 
wisdom,  and  the  strength  of  divine  aid,  in  his  progress 
through  the  state  of  moral  discipline ;  he  inquires,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  for  this  aid  in  the  culture  of  his  moral 
being,  when  he  views  this  mighty  undertaking  in  its 
important  reference  to  the  life  wliich  is  to  come;  he 
inquires  for  a  discernment  of  the  ways  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, as  he  either  feels  it  in  his  own  concerns,  or  views 
it  in  the  chain  of  events  which  are  going  on  in  the 
Avorld  around  him.  He  learns  to  trace  the  whole  to 
the  same  unerring  hand  which  guides  the  planet  in  its 
course;  and  thus  rests  in  the  absolute  conviction  that 
the  economy  of  Providence  is  one  great  and  magnificent 
system  of  design,  and  order,  and  harmony.  These, 
we  repeat  with  confidence,  are  no  visions  of  the  imagi- 
nation, but  tlie  sound  inductions  of  a  calm  and  rational 
philosophy.     They  are  conclusions  which  compel  the 

Striking  remarks  quoted  in  respect  to  pride  and  humility  ?  luflueuce  of  a 
liumhie  sense  of  God  upon  the  mind  in  a  phiUisophical  point  of  view?  In- 
fluence of  it  in  difficulty  and  danger  ?  View  which  such  a  mind  takes  of  the 
events  of  Providence  1 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  229 

assent  of  every  candid  inquirer,  wlien  he  folloAVs  out 
that  investigation  of  mighty  import, — what  is  God,  and 
what  is  that  essence  in  man  which  he  has  endowed 
with  the  power  of  rising  to  himself. 

To  enlarge  upon  these  important  subjects  wonld 
iCad  us  away  from  the  proper  design  of  a  worl^,  which 
is  intended  chiefly  to  investigate  the  hght  we  derive 
from  the  phenomena  of  tlie  mind  itself  The  points 
which  have  been  stated,  as  arising  out  of  the  impres- 
sions of  every  sound  understanding,  challenge  the 
assent  of  all  who  believe  in  a  present  and  presiding 
Deity,  a  being  of  infinite  power  and  wisdom,  and  of 
perfect  purity.  With  him  who  calls  in  question  this 
sublime  truth,  Ave  have  no  common  feeling,  and  no 
mutual  premises  on  which  an  argument  can  be  found- 
ed. \Ye  must  therefore  leave  him  to  sit  in  solitary 
pride,  while  he  views  the  chaos  which  his  fancy  has 
framed,  and  strives  to  reconcile  the  discordant  elements 
of  a  system,  in  which  there  are  effects  without  a  cause, 
and  harmony  without  a  regulating  power;  and  in 
which  the  mind  can  perceive  no  element  of  credibility, 
consistency,  or  truth.  • 

With  this  slight  outline,  therefore,  we  must  quit  a 
subject  of  the  deepest  interest,  but  which  belongs  rather 
to  the  theologian  than  to  the  inquirer  in  mental  science; 
and  proceed  briefly  to  investigate  the  means  by  which 
the  condition  of  the  moral  feelings,  which  has  been  the 
subject  of  the  preceding  observations,  maybe  promoted 

Consistenc}'  of  these  views  with  the  sound  philosophy  ?  Upon  what  sinpfle 
article  of  belief  do  these  principles  rest  for  their  foundation  ?  Suppose  a 
man  disbelieves  this  truth?  Is  it  consistent  with  the  nature  and  diMi,Mi  of 
this  work  to  go  very  fully  into  the  subject  of  religious  duty  ?  Subject  now 
lo  be  considered  ?  , 

20 


230  THE    MOUAU    KKLATIO.N    OF    MAN  [PAt;T  IV. 

and  cultivated  as  tlie  regulating  principle  of  the  whole 
character.  Two  views  may  be  taken  of  this  point, 
which,  though  they  harmonize  with  each  other  in 
practice,  are  to  be  considered,  in  their  philosophical 
aspect,  as  distinct. 

The  restoration  of  man  from  a  state  of  estrangement, 
anarchy,  or  moral  death,  we  are  taught  in  the  sacred 
writings  to  refer  to  a  power  from  without  the  mind,  an 
influence  directly  from  God.  We  have  seen  the  vari- 
ous considerations  derived  from  the  phenomena  of  the 
mind,  and  our  impressions  of  the  divine  character, 
giving  to  this  great  doctrine  a  probability  which  claims 
the  assent  of  every  correct  understanding.  But,  with- 
out in  any  degree  losing  sight  of  the  truth  and  the  im- 
portance of  this  principle,  the  immediate  object  of  our 
attention,  as  a  branch  of  mental  science,  is  rather  the 
process  of  the  mind  itself,  by  means  of  which  a  habi- 
tual influence  is  produced  upon  the  whole  character. 
This  is  a  compound  operation,  which  may  probably  be 
analyzed  in  the  following  manner.  It  seems  to  be 
composed  of  reason,  attention,  and  a  modification  of 
conception.  The  province  of  reason  is  to  examine  the 
truth  of  the  statements  or  doctrines,  which  are  proposed 
to  the  mind,  as  calculated  to  act  upon  its  moral  feel- 
ings; and  upon  this  being  done  in  a  correct  manner 
must  depend  the  validity  of  the  subsequent  parts  of  the 
mental  process.  This  being  premised,  it  is  the  oflice 
of  attention,  aided  by  reason,  to  direct  the  mind  assi- 

Views  to  be  taken  of  it?  To  what  means  is  the  moral  restoration  of  man 
referred  in  the  Scriptures?  Do  pliilosophical  considerations  tend  to  confirm 
or  to^ostion  this  truth?  Is  this  subject  lo  be  entered  upon  fully  here  7 
What  IS  the  immediate  object  of  the  author's  attention  in  this  place?  Ts 
this  process  simple  or  compound  ?     Its  elements.     Province  of  reason  ? 


PART  IV.]  TOWAKDS    THE    UKITY.  2H1 

duously  to  the  truths,  so  as  fully  to  perceive  their 
relations  a  id  tendencies.  By  the  farther  process, 
analogous  :o  conception,  they  are  then  placed  before 
us,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  give  them  the  effect  of  real 
and  present  existence.  By  these  means,  truths  relating 
to  things  for  which  we  have  not  the  evidence  of  our 
senses,  or  referring  to  events  which  are  future,  but 
fully  expected  to  happen,  are  kept  before  the  mind,  and 
influence  the  moral  feelings  and  the  character,  in  the 
same  manner  as  if  the  facts  believed  were  actually 
seen,  or  the  events  expected  were  taking  place  in  our 
view.  This  mental  operation  is  faith;  and  for  the 
sound  exercise  of  it  the  constituent  elements  now  men- 
tioned are  essentially  necessary.  The  truth  must  be 
received  by  the  judgment  upon  adequate  evidence; 
and,  by  the  other  parts  of  the  process,  it  must  be  so 
kept  before  the  mind,  that  it  may  exercise  such  a 
moral  influence  as  might  arise  from  the  actual  vision, 
or  present  existence,  of  the  things  believed. 

Attention  to  these  considerations  will  probably  ena- 
ble us  to  discover  some  of  the  fallacies  which  have  ob- 
scured and  bewildered  this  important  subject.  When 
the  impression,  which  is  thus  allowed  to  influence  the 
mind,  is  one  which  has  not  been  received  by  the  judg- 
ment upon  due  examination,  and  adequate  evidence  of 
its  truth, — this  is  enthusiasm,  not  faith.  Our  present 
course  of  inquiry  does  not  lead  us  to  treat  ot  the  nations 
which  have,  in  various  individuals,  been  thus  allowed 
to  usurp  the  place  of  truth.     To  those  who  would  pre- 


Pr.nnce  of  attention?  The  third  step?  Name  of  this  mental  operation? 
What  is  essential  to  it  ?  Important  use  which  we  may  make  of  lhe^e  coa- 
lidi  rations  ?    What  is  enthusiasm  ? 


232  THE    MOKAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV, 

serve  tlionisclves  from  the  influence  of  such,  the  first 
great  inquiry,  respecting  their  own  mental  impressions, 
ought  to  be,  are  they  facts,  and  on  what  evidence  .do 
they  rest  which  can  satisfy  a  sound  understanding 
that  thev  are  so.  On  the  other  hand  is  to  be  avoided 
an  error,  not  less  dangerous  than  the  wildest  fancies 
of  the  enthusiast,  and  not  less  unworthy  of  a  regulated 
mind.  This  consists  in  treating  real  and  important 
truths  as  if  they  were  visions  of  the  imagination,  and 
thus  dismissing  them,  without  examination,  from  the 
influence  which  they  ought  to  produce  upon  the  moral 
feelings.  It  is  singular  also  to  remark,  how  these  two 
modifications  of  character  may  be  traced  to  a  condition 
of  the  reasoning  powers  essentially  the  same.  The 
former  receives  a  fiction  of  the  imagination,  and  rests 
upon  it  as  truth.  The  latter,  acting  upon  some  preju- 
dice or -mental  impression,  which  has  probably  no  bet- 
ter foundation,  puts  away  real  and  important  truths 
without  any  examination  of  the  evidence  on  which 
they  are  founded.  The  misapplication  of  the  reasoning 
powers  is  the  same  in  both.  It  consists  in  proceeding 
upon  a  mere  impression,  without  exercising  the  judg- 
ment on  the  question  of  its  evidence,  or  on  the  facts 
and  considerations  which  are  opposed  to  it.  Two 
characters  of  a  very  opposite  description  thus  meet  in 
that  mental  condition,  which  draws  them  equally, 
though  in  ditferent  directions,  astray  from  the  truth. 

When  a  truth  has  fully  received  the  sanction  of  the 
judgment,  the  second  ofllce  of  faith  is,  by  attention 

Inquiry  by  whicb  we  may  preserve  ourselves  from  it?  Another  error,  ot 
which  there  is  equal  danger?  Singularity  in  respect  to  the  origin  of  liioac 
opposite  errors  ?     How  may  the  two  he  shown  to  arise  from  the  sime  source  '• 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  233 

and  conception,  to  keep  it  habitually  before  the  min*:! 
so  that  it  may  produce  its  proper  influence  upon  tlie 
character.  This  is  to  hve  by  faith;  and  in  this  con 
sists  that  operation  of  the  great  principle,  which  effec- 
tually distinguishes  it  from  all  pretended  feelings  ano 
impressions  assuming  its  name.  We  speak,  in  common 
language,  of  a  head-knowledge  which  does  not  affect 
the  heart;  and  of  a  man  who  is  sound  in  his  creed 
while  he  shows  little  of  its  influence  upon  his  conduct. 
The  mental  condition  of  such  a  man  presents  a  subject 
of  intense  interest.  His  alleged  belief,  it  is  probable, 
consists  merely  in  words,  or  in  arguing  ingeniously  on 
points  to  which  he  attaches  no  real  value.  These  may 
have  been  impressed  upon  him  by  education;  tliey 
may  constitute  the  creed  of  a  party  to  which  he  has 
devoted  himself;  and  he  may  argue  in  support  of  them 
with  all  the  energy  of  party  zeal.  In  the  same  manner, 
a  man  may  contend  warmly  in  favor  of  compassion^ 
whose  conduct  shows  a  cold  and  barren  selfishness: 
but  this  is  not  benevolence;  and  the  other  is  not  faith. 
Both  are  empty  professions  of  a  belief  in  certain  trujli^. 
which  have  never  fixed  themselves  in  the  mind,  so  as 
to  become  regulating  principles  or  moral  causes  in  the 
mental  constitution.  We  may  indeed  suppose  another 
character,  slightly  removed  from  this,  in  which  the 
truths  have  really  received  the  approbation  of  the 
judgment,  and  yet  fail  to  produce  their  proper  influ 
ence.  This  arises  from  distorted  moral  habits,  and  a 
vitiated  state  of  the  moral  faculties,   which  havti  de- 

The  second  ^eat  office  of  faith  ?  Practical  value  of  this  principle  as  a 
test  ?  Nature  of  mere  "  dead"  belief?  In  what  does  it  probably  consist  ? 
Zeal  which  may  be  manifested  in  such  a  case  ?  Is  this  real  faith  ?  Anoiner 
case  in  which  truth,  really  apprehended,  may  fail  oi'  controlling  the  chatucier  7 

20^ 


234  THE    MORAL    KKLATION    OF    MAN  [PART.   IV 

stroyed  the  healthy  balance  of  the  whole  economy  of 
the  niiiid.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  man  perceives 
and  approves  of  truths,  without  feeling  their  tenden- 
cies, and  without  manifesting  their  power. 

Intimately  connected  with  this  subject,  also,  is  a  re- 
markable principle  in  our  mental  constitution,  formerly 
referred  to ;  namely,  the  relation  between  certain  facts 
or  truths,  and  certain  moral  emotions,  which  naturally 
arise  from  them,  according  to  the  chain  of  sequences 
which  has  been  established  in  the  economy  of  the 
mind.  A  close  connection  thus  exists  between  our  in- 
rchectual  habits  and  our  moral  feelings,  which  leads  to 
consequences  of  the  utmost  practical  moment.  Though 
we  have  little  immediate  voluntary  power  over  our 
moral  emotions,  we  have  a  power  over  the  intellectual 
processes  with  which  these  are  associated.  We  cau 
direct  the  mind  to  truths,  and  we  can  cherish  trains  of 
thought,  which  are  calculated  to  produce  correct  motal 
feelings;  and  we  can  avoid  or  banish  mental  images  or 
trains  of  thought,  which  have  an  opposite  tendency. 
T^iis  is  the  power  over  the  succession  of  our  thoughts, 
the  due  exercise  of  which  forms  so  important  a  feature 
of  a  well-regulated  mind,  in  regard  to  intellectual  cul- 
ture: its  influence  upon  us  as  moral  beings  is  of  still 
higher  and  more  vital  importance. 

The  sound  exercise  of  that  mental  condition  which 
we  call  faith  consists,  therefore,  in  the  reception  of 
certain  truths  by  the  judgment,  the  proper  direction  of 
the  attention  to  their  moral  tendencies,  and  the  habitual 

Important  pnnciple  in  the  mental  constitution  connected  with  this  subject  ] 
How  is  it  that  a  power  over  our  moral  feelings  arises  by  means  of  this  prm- 
ople  ?     Recapitulation  of  the  nature  of  faith  "^ 


FART  IV.]  TOWAilDlS    THE    DEITY.  235 

influence  of  tlietn  upon  the  feelings  and  the  conduct. 
When  the  sacred  writers  teli  us  that  without  faith  it  is 
impossible  to  please  God.  and  when  they  speak  of  a 
man  being  saved  by  faith,  it  is  not  to  a  mere  admission 
of  certain  truths  as  part  of  his  creed  that  they  ascribe 
consequences  so  important;  but  to  a  state  in  which 
these  truths  are  uniformly  followed  out  to  certain  re- 
SLiL.i,  which  they  are  calculated  to  produce^  according 
to  the  usual  course  of  sequences,  in  every  sound  mind. 
This  principle  is  strikingly  illustrated  by  one  of  these 
writers,  by  reference  to  a  simple  narrative.  During 
the  invasion  of  Canaan  by  the  armies  of  Israel,  two 
men  were  sent  forward  as  spies  to  bring  a  report  con- 
cerning the  city  of  Jericho.  The  persons  engaged  in 
this  mission  were  received  in  a  friendly  manner  by  a 
woman  whose  house  was  upon  the  wall  of  the  city; 
when  their  presence  was  discovered,  she  hid  them  from 
their  pursuers;  and  finally  enabled  them  to  escape,  by 
letting  them  down  by  a  cord  from  a  window.  Before 
taking  leave  of  them,  she  expressed  her  firm  conviction, 
that  the  army  to  which  they  belonged  was  soon  to  take 
possession  of  Jericho,  and  of  the  whole  country;  and 
she  made  them  swear  to  her,  that,  when  this  should 
take  place,  they  would  show  mercy  to  her  father's 
house.  The  engagement  was  strictly  fulfilled.  When 
the  city  was  taken,  and  the  other  inhabitants  destroyed, 
the  woman  was  preserved,  with  all  her  kindred.  In 
this  very  simple  occurrence,  the  woman  is  represented, 
by  the  sacred  writer,  as  having  been  saved  by  faith. 


Importance  att^ihed  to  faith  in  the  Scriptures  ?  In  what  sense  is  it  used 
(u  the  Scriptures  IN arrative  referred  to  in  illustration  ?  Repeat  the  nana 
tive. 


236  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV. 

The  object  of  her  faith  was  the  event  which  she  confi- 
dently expected, — that  the  city  of  Jericho  was  to  be 
destroyed.  The  ground  of  her  faith  was  the  rapid 
manner  in  which  the  most  powerful  nations  had  ah-ea- 
dy  fallen  before  the  armies  of  Israel,  led,  as  she  be- 
lieved, by  a  divine  power.  Acting  upon  this  conviction, 
m  the  manner  in  which  a  beUef  so  deeply  affecting  her 
personal  safety  was  likely  to  influence  any  sound  mind, 
she  took  me<tns  for  her  preservation,  by  making  friends 
of  the  spies.  Her  faith  saved  her,  because  without  it 
she  would  not  have  made  this  provision;  but,  unless 
she  had  followed  out  her  belief  to  the  measure  which 
was  calculated  to  effect  this  object,  the  mere  belief  of 
the  event  would  have  availed  her  nothing.  When  we 
therefore  ascribe  important  results  to  faith,  or  to  any 
other  mental  operation,  we  ascribe  them  not  to  the 
operation  itself,  but  to  this  followed  out  to  the  conse- 
quences which  it  naturally  produces,  according  to  the 
constitution  of  the  human  mind.  In  the  same  manner, 
we  may  speak  of  one  man,  in  a  certain  state  of  danger 
or  difficulty,  being  saved  by  his  wisdom,  and  another 
by  his  strength.  In  doing  so,  we  ascribe  such  results 
not  to  the  mere  possession  of  these  qualities,  but  to  the 
efforts  which  naturally  arose  from  them,  in  the  circum- 
stances in  which  the  individual  was  placed.  And 
when  the  inspired  writer  says,  that  without  faith  it  is 
impossible  to  please  God,  he  certainly  refers  to  no  mere 
mental  impression,  and  to  no  barren  system  of  opi- 
nions: but  to  the  recention  of  certain  truths,  which,  in 


The  object  of  this  woman's  faith  ?  The  ground  of  it  ?  Its  efficiency  in 
governing  her  conduct?  What  was  it  which  gave  her  faith  all  its  power  and 
value?  To  what,  in  all  cases,  are  the  important  results  of  faith  to  he  a^- 
crilied  ?     Analogies  illustrating  this  principle  ? 


PART   IV. J  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  237 

our  present  state  of  being,  are  entirely  the  objects  of 
faith,  and  to  all  that  influence,  upon  the  moral  feelings 
and  the  character,  which  these  must  produce  upon 
every  mind  that  really  believes  them. 

On  this  great  subject,  much  misconception  appears 
to  have  arisen  from  not  sufficiently  attending  to  the 
condition  in  which,  as  moral  beings,  we  are  placed  in 
the  present  state  of  existence,  and  the  important  part 
which  must  be  performed  by  the  mental  exercise  called 
faith.  As  physical  and  intellectual  beings,  we  have 
certain  relations  to  the  objects  by  which  we  are  sur- 
rounded, and  with  these  we  communicate  by  means 
of  our  bodily  senses.  But,  as  moral  beings,  our  rela- 
tions are  entirely  of  a  different  nature;  and  the  facts 
and  motives,  which  are  calculated  to  act  upon  us  in 
these  relations,  are  chiefly  the  objects  of  faith;  that  is, 
they  are  not  cogniza.ble  by  any  of  our  senses,  but  are 
to  be  received  by  a  different  part  of  our  constitution, 
and  upon  a  separate  kind  of  evidence.  This,  accor- 
dingly, is  the  simple  but  important  distinction  referred 
to  by  the  sacred  writer,  when,  in  allusion  to  our  condi- 
tion as  moral  beings,  he  says,  "  we  walk  by  faith,  not 
by  sight."  The  objects  of  sight^  here  intended  to 
express  all  the  objects  of  sense,  exercise  over  us  a  habi- 
tual and  powerful  influence.  They  constantly  obtrude 
themselves  upon  our  notice  without  any  exertion  of 
our  own;  and  it  requires  a  peculiar  exercise  of  mind 
to  withdraw  our  attention  from  them,  and  to  feel  the 

Source  of  misconception  on  this  subject  ?  Our  physical  and  intellectual 
relations  ?  Our  moral  relations  ?  How  are  they  cognizable  ?  Quotation 
from  Scripture  explained  by  these  principles  ?  Influence  of  the  objects  of 
tiense  over  us  ? 


238  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF   MAN  [PART  I\ 

power  of  events  which  are  future,  and  of  things  which 
are  not  seen.  This  mental  exercise  is  faith.  Its  spe- 
cial province,  as  we  have  seen,  is  to  receive  truths 
which  are  presented  directly  to  the  mind,  to  place  them 
before  us  with  all  the  vividness  of  actual  and  present 
existence,  and  to  make  them  exert  upon  us  an  agency 
analogous  to  that  which  is  produced  by  objects  of  sight. 
The  next  great  point  in  our  inquiry,  therefore  .s,  what 
are  the  truths  which  are  calculated  thus  to  operate 
upon  us  as  moral  beings,  and  which  it  is  the  object  of 
faith  to  bring  habitually  before  us. 

When  we  withdraw  our  minds  from  the  influence 
of  sensible  things,  and  send  forth  our  attention  to  those 
truths  which  are  the  province  of  faith,  the  first  great 
object  which  meets  our  view  is  the  eternal  incompre- 
hensible One,  the  moral  governor  of  the  universe,  a 
being  of  infinite  perfections  and  fnfinite  purity.  From 
the  stupendous  works  of  nature,  we  trace  his  operation 
as  the  great  First  Cause,  and  infer,  with  absolute  cer- 
tainty, his  boundless  power  and  wisdom,  and  his  irde- 
pendent  existence.  The  impress  of  his  moral  attributes 
he  has  fixed  with  indelible  certainty  upon  our  moral 
perceptions,  where,  in  the  light  of  conscience,  co- 
operating with  a  simple  process  of  reason,  we  perceive 
him  to  be  a  being  of  infinite  holiness,  and  of  unerring 
truth  and  justice.  Our  knowledge  of  these  attributes 
is  not  the  result  of  any  process  of  reasoning  which  can 
admit  of  deliberation  or  doubt.  They  force  themselves 
upon  our  conviction  by  the  most  simple  principles  of 

Counteracting  influence  7    What  point  of  inquiry  now  arises  ?    First  grea* 
trulli  to  be  received  by  faith?     Inferences  from  it? 


PART  IV.J  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  239 

induction,  when,  from  our  own  mental  and  moral 
endowments,  we  infer  the  perfections  of  him  who 
formed  us. 

From  every  conception  we  can  form  of  such  a  being, 
we  have  an  equally  insuperable  conviction  of  his  uni- 
versal presence, — that  he  is  the  witness  not  only  of  our 
conduct,  but  of  the  thoughts  and  imaginations  of  the 
heart;  and  that  from  these,  as  indicating  our  real 
condition,  and  not  from  our  conduct  alone,  our  moral 
aspect  is  estimated  by  him,  the  pure  and  holy  One  who 
seeth  in  secret.  Each  moment,  as  it  passes  rapidly 
over  us,  we  know  is  bringing  us  nearer  to  that  period, 
when  all  our  hopes  and  fears  for  this  world  shall  lie 
with  us  in  the  grave.  But  we  feel  also  that  this  is  the 
entrance  to  another  state  of  being,  a  state  of  moral 
retribution,  where  the  eternal  One  is  to  be  disclosed  in 
all  his  attributes  as  a  moral  governor.  These  conside- 
rations fix  themselves  upon  the  mind,  with  a  feeling 
of  yet  new  and  more  tremendous  interest,  when  we 
farther  take  into  view  that  this  future  existence 
stretches  out  before  us  into  endless  duration.  This  is 
the  truth  so  powerfully  expressed  by  the  sacred  writer, 
in  terms  which  by  their  brevity  convey,  in  the  most 
adequate  manner,  their  overwhelming  import, — ''The 
things  which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things 
which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 

These  truths  are  not  the  visions  of  enthusiasm;  nei- 
ther are  they  the  result  of  any  process  of  reasoning,  by 
which  different  men  may  arrive  at  different  conclusions. 

On  what  kind  of  evidence  is  our  knowledge  of  the  divine  attributes  based  1 
Second  great  truth  7    Other  truths  in  respect  to  our  condition  here  and  pro 
veris  hereafter? 


240  THE  MORAL  RELATION  OF  MAN      fPART  17. 

They  force  themselves  upon  our  conviction  with  a 
power  which  we  cannot  put  away  from  us,  when  we 
turn  our  attention  to  the  solemn  inquiry,  what  we  a.  j, 
and  what  is  God.  In  the  sacred  writings  they  are  de- 
tailed and  illustrated,  in  a  connected  and  harmonious 
manner;  and  are  impressed  upon  us  with  the  force  of 
a  revelation  from  the  Deity  himself  But  the  principles 
there  disclosed  meet  with  an  impression,  in  our  moral 
constitution,  which  pleads  with  authority  for  their 
truth.  It  is  the  province  of  faith  to  keep  these  habitu- 
ally before  the  mind,  and  to  cause  them  to  influence 
the  feehngs  and  the  conduct,  as  if  they  were  objects  of 
sense, — as  if  the  Deity  in  all  the  purity  of  his  character 
were  actually  disclosed  to  our  view, — or  as  if  we  were 
present  at  that  dread  hour  which  shall  witness  his 
righteous  retribution.  The  man  who  thus  feels  their 
power,  and  exhibits  their  influence  upon  his  character, 
is  he  who  lives  by  faith. 

When,  under  this  mental  exercise,  a  man  brings 
himself  into  the  immediate  presence  of  the  Eternal 
One;  when  he  arraigns  himself,  as  it  were,  before  the 
bar  of  the  omniscient  Judge;  when  he  places  before 
him  that  future  stale  which  stretches  into  endless  ex- 
istence; a  train  of  feelings  must  arise  in  his  mind,  to 
which  he  was  a  stranger,  so  long  as  he  placidly  resign- 
ed himself  to  the  influence  of  sensible  things.  He  views 
this  being  of  infinite  purity  as  one  who  has  been  all 
his  life  the  daily  witness  of  his  conduct;  and  feels  that 
even  the  secrets  of  the  heart  have  been  at  all  times 

Nature  ol  these  truths  as  to  the  evidence  they  rest  upon  '?  Can  there  ba 
any  reasonalile  douht  of  them?  Two  distinct  sources  of  evidence?  Thf 
province  of  faith  in  respect  to  them?  Moral  influence  of  these  principles  or 
ihe  heart  of  the  religious  man?     His  view  of  God? 


PAKT  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DE1T\  241 

Open  10  divine  inspection.  Each  day,  as  it  passed  un- 
heeded over  him,  was  a  portion  gone  by  of  his  period 
of  moral  discipUne;  and  each,  as  it  ghded  amid  the 
frivolities  of  life,  or  the  active  pursuit  of  temporal  good, 
had  its  moral  aspect  assigned  to  it  in  the  judgment  of 
the  eternal  mind.  Along  with  these  impressions,  which 
no  reflecting  man  can  put  away  from  him,  a  voice 
within  forces  upon  him  the  conviction,  that,  were  his 
whole  history  disclosed  to  his  fellow-men,  he  would, 
even  in  their  estimation,  be  found  wanting.  How 
much  more  deeply  must  this  be  fixed  upon  his  inmost 
soul,  when  he  feels  that  the  whole  is,  at  one  glance, 
exposed  to  the  eye  of  Omniscience;  and  that  an  hour 
is  rapidly  approaching,  when  a  strict  account  must  be 
rendered,  and  a  righteous  sentence  pronounced,  the 
result  of  which  Avill  extend  into  eternal  existencp. 
With  these  truths  upon  his  mind,  what  reflecting  man 
can  view  without  awe  the  moment  which  is  to  close 
his  state  of  moral  discipline,  when,  disencumbered 
from  his  earthly  tenement,  he  shall  find  himself  alone 
with  God,  and  there  shall  burst  upon  his  astonished 
faculties  the  blaze  of  an  endless  day!  These  are  not 
speculations  of  fancy,  but  eternal  truth.  The  man  who 
habitually  acts  under  their  influence  knows  that  his 
faith  rests  upon  a  conviction  which  cannot  be  shaken, 
when  he  recognises  in  all  his  ways  the  presence  and 
the  inspection  of  the  Deity,  when  he  feels  the  obliga- 
tion to  have  even  the  desires  and  affections  under  sub- 
jection to  his  will,  and  when  he  resigns  himself  to  liis 

His  view  of  time  ; — of  his  own  character ; — of  his  responsibility,  and  ap 
preaching  account?  His  views  of  death?  Firmness  with  which  bis  faith 
rests  upon  these  truths? 

21 


212  THE    MORAL    -RELATION    OF    MAN  fPART  IV 

guidance  and  asks  his  powerful  aid,  both  for  the  con- 
duct of  this  life,  and  the  preparation  for  the  hk  which 
is  to  come. 

Solemn  is  the  hour  when  a  man  thus  retires  from 
the  tumult  of  life,  and  seriously  proposes  to  himself  the 
question,  what  is  his  condition  as  a  moral  being;  what 
have  been  his  leading  pursuits  in  that  life  which  is 
hastening  to  a  close;  what  is  his  aspect  in  the  view  of 
that  incomprehensible  One,  who  perceives  at  a  single 
glance  the  whole  details  of  his  moral  history.  Ts  he 
safe  to  meet  the  full  splendor  of  that  eye;  has  he  no 
apprehension,  that,  when  called  to  account  in  the  im- 
mediate presence  of  unerring  purity,  he  may  not  be 
able  to  answer?  The  man  lives  not,  wlio  can  appeal 
to  his  own  heart  and  say,  after  serious  inquiry,  that  he 
can  thus  meet  the  penetrating  search  of  him.  whose 
knowledge  is  perfect,  as  his  purity  is  infinite :  the  man 
lives  not,  who  can  look  back  upon  his  whole  life  wiih- 
out  feeling,  that,  in  the  sight  of  this  unspotted  One,  he 
is  polluted  with  guilt:  and,  if  his  heart  condemn  him, 
with  all  its  partiality  for  his  own  views  and  feelings, 
and  all  its  forgetfulness  of  many  points  in  his  moral 
history,  he  must  feel  that  God  is  greater  than  his  heart, 
and  knowcth  all  things.  Under  such  an  impression, 
to  what  refuge  shall  he  betake  himself 7  Does  he  ap- 
peal to  an  indefinite  idea  of  the  mercy  of  the  Deity?  it 
must  be  evident  that  this  conveys  no  distinct  principle, 
and  will  not  bear  the  confidence  which  is  essential  to 


Their  practical  influonce?  SoleniTiity  of  the  inquiry  respecting  our  tnie 
morHl  condition?  The  feelings  with  which  this  inquiry  must  necessarily  be 
in<.M  ?     Tlie  refuge  ? 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  243 

hope  and  peace.  For  we  cannot  go  to  the  extent  of 
supposing  a  mercy  so  indiscriminate,  that  the  Deity 
will  depart  from  all  the  laws  which  he  has  made,  and 
which  he  has  impressed  upon  us  as  a  part  of  our  moral 
constitution.  This  would  be  ascribing  to  infinite  wis- 
dom an  indecision  and  a  change  of  purpose,  unworthy 
of  the  weakest  human  lawgiver.  If,  then,  we  do  not 
Doldly  assume  this  position,  how  are  we  to  draw  the 
line  where  such  mercy  is  to  terminate ;  and  where  the 
Almighty  is  to  appear  in  his  character  of  justice,  as  a 
righteous  moral  governor.  If  we  find  that  each  indi- 
vidual fixes  a  different  standard,  and  that  each  extends 
it  so  as  to  favor  his  own  condition,  it  is  clear  that  the 
system  presents  no  character  of  truth,  and  that  it  is  in- 
capable of  ministering  to  the  consolation  of  him  who 
feels  his  own  necessities,  and  seriously  contemplates 
the  character  of  God.  He  must  perceive  that  to  apply 
such  reasoning  to  human  enactments,  would  be  to 
represent  them  as  a  mockery  of  justice :  and  that  it  is 
impossible  thus  to  argue  respecting  the  laws  of  him 
who  is  infinite  in  holiness  and  boundless  in  wisdom. 
He  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  a  universe  governed  in 
such  a  manner  would  run  into  irremediable  confusion 
and  anarchy ;  and  will  find  it  impossible,  on  any  prin- 
ciple which  human  reasoning  can  furnish,  to  arrive  at 
any  other  decision  than  this,  that  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth  must  be  unchanging  in  his  purposes,  and  impar- 
tial in  his  justice. 


Can  he  find  relief  in  the  hope  of  the  indiscriminate  mercy  of  God  ?  WM 
not  ?  Is  indiscriminate  mercy  consistent  wath  justice  even  in  the  case  of 
human  enactments  ?  So  far  as  we  can  see,  what  must  be  its  effects  m  the 
g«Yemment  of  God?     Conchision  to  which  the  inquirer  would  be  led  ? 


244  THE    MORAL    KKLATiON    OF    MAN  fPAKT  IV. 

To  this  conclusion  we  are  led  by  the  clearest  induc- 
tions of  moral  science;  but,  at  this  momentous  point, 
philosophy  fails  us.  No  hun  an  power  can  find  a 
refuge,  to  which  the  mind  can  betake  itself  under  a 
sense  of  guilt;  no  human  wisdom  can  answer  the  in- 
quiry of  mighty  import,  can  God  be  just  and  yet  justiiy 
the  ungodly.  But  here  we  are  met  by  a  light  from 
heaven,  which  has  burst  upon  the  scene  of  doubt  and 
of  darkness ;  and  are  called  to  bring  down  the  pride  of 
our  reason,  in  humble  submission  to  the  testimony  of 
God.  It  comes  supported  by  a  weight  of  evidence, 
which  challenges  the  cordial  assent  of  the  most  acute 
understanding,  and  the  power  of  which  will  be  best 
appreciated  by  those  who,  with  sincere  desire  for  truth, 
have  made  the  highest  attainments  in  the  laws  of  rigid 
inquiry.  It  discloses  an  atonement  made  for  sin,  and 
an  influence  from  heaven,  calculated  to  restore  the 
moral  being  to  the  purity  in  which  it  was  formed.  It 
thus  meets  alike  the  necessities  of  man,  as  in  a  state 
of  actual  guilt  and  a  state  of  moral  degradation.  For 
the  one,  it  displays  a  scheme  of  mercy  in  which  the 
integrity  of  the  divine  character  is  vindicated,  while 
pardon  is  extended  to  transgressors.  To  the  other,  it 
offers  power  from  heaven,  which  will  correct  the  disor- 
ders of  the  moral  constitution,  and  raise  the  man  anew 
to  the  likeness  of  God.  It  thus  forms  a  harmonious 
whole,  uniform  and  consistent  in  itself,  worthy  of  the 
character  of  God,  and  adapted  to  the  condition  of  man; 
and,  to  every  one  who  feels  his  own  moral  necessities, 

Can  philosophy  furnish  us  with  any  sultstantial  hope  of  pardon  for  sin? 
Tlie  licfht  on  this  suhjecl  from  revelation  .'  The  double  exiget  ty  which  the 
Bcriptiire  plan  of  pardon  meets?  Its  provision  for  the  guilt  o  man;  —  foi 
•lis  helplessness? 


PART  IV. J  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  245 

and  estimates  the  purity  of  the  Deity,  it  brings  an 
absolute  conviction  of  its  truth. 

A  participation  in  the  benefits  of  this  revelation  of 
divine  mercy  is  said,  in  the  sacred  writings,  to  be  re- 
ceived by  faith;  and  this  expression  has  given  rise  tc 
controversies  and  contending  systems,  whidi  have  in- 
volved the  subject  in  much  perplexity.  While  some 
have  restricted  the  operation  of  faith  to  the  mere  belief 
of  a  certain  system  of  opinions,  others  have  referred  to 
it  a  series  of  mysterious  impressions,  and  enthusiastic 
feelings,  at  variance  with  every  dictate  of  sound  rea- 
soning. The  principle  of  faith,  however,  holds  so  promi- 
nent a  place  in  the  scheme  of  Christian  truth,  that 
some  clear  notions  respecting  its  nature  must  be  felt  to 
be  of  the  highest  interest.  It  holds  also,  as  we  have 
formerly  seen,  a  most  important  position  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  the  moral  feelings,  being  that  mental  operation 
by  which  we  receive  a  certain  class  of  truths,  of  the 
utmost  consequence  to  us  as  responsible  beings.  It  is 
a  process  which  every  one  feels,  but  which  cannot  be 
defined;  and  it  can  be  illustrated  only  by  tracing  its 
influence,  in  regard  to  those  objects  to  which  it  is  more 
particularly  directed. 

The  objects  of  faith  are  twofold :  truths  addressed  to 
our  understanding,  and  benefits  offered  or  promised. 
We  have  formerly  had  occasion  to  trace  the  action  of 
faith  in  regard  to  truth,  especially  a  class  of  truths 
which  are  calculated,  when  really  believed,  to  exert  a 
powerful  effect  upon  our  moral  feelings  and  conduct. 

How  are  the  benefits  of  this  revelation  of  mercy  said  to  be  received,  in  the 
Scriptures  ?  Controversies  which  have  arisen  out  of  this  subject  ?  Twofclc 
objects  of  faith? 

21^ 


246  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV^. 

fts  operation,  we  have  seen,  is  to  bring  these  truths 
before  us  in  such  a  manner,  that  they  exert  the  same 
kind  of  influence  as  if  the  facts  or  events  were  objects 
of  sense.  The  man  who  beheves  these  truths,  so  as 
thus  habitually  to  feel  their  power,  is  he  who  receives 
them  in  faith.  This  is  the  province  of  faith  in  regard 
to  truth.  We  have  next  to  analyze  its  operation  in 
regard  to  offered  or  promised  benefits;  and  this  we  can 
best  do  by  means  of  an  example. 

Let  us  take  the  illustration  of  a  man  affected  with  a 
disease  supposed  to  be  mortal;  he  is  told  that  a  remedy 
has  been  discovered  of  infallible  efficacy;  and  that  a 
person  is  at  hand  who  is  ready  to  administer  it.  Does 
he  perceive  his  danger;  does  he  believe  the  virtue  of 
the  remedy;  does  he  confide  in  the  sincerity  of  the 
individual  who  offers  it; — this  is  faith.  The  immedi'^16 
and  natural  result  of  his  faith  is,  that  he  asks  lor  the 
remedy  which  is  offered;  and  this  result  is  inseparable 
from  such  belief,  according  to  the  uniform  sequence  of 
volitions  in  every  sound  mind.  The  man  who  profes- 
ses to  admit  the  facts,  and  does  not  show  such  a  result 
of  belief,  professes  what  he  does  not  actually  feel.  If 
he  perceives  not  the  extent  of  his  danger,  he  asks  not 
the  remedy,  because  he  values  it  not;  and  the  same 
effect  may  follow,  if  he  doubts  either  its  efficacy,  or 
the  sincerity  of  him  who  offers  it.  In  this  case,  it  is 
also  to  be  observed,  that  a  reflection  is  thrown  upon 
the  character  of  this  individual,  by  imputing  to  him  an 
offer  of  what  he  has  either  not  the  power  or  the  inten- 


Province  of  faith  in  res^ard  to  truth?  lihistration?  In  what  would  faith 
consist  in  such  a  case?  Its  natural  result  ?  What  may  we  safely  infer  when 
♦.his  result  does  not  follow  ? 


PART  IV.]  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  2 17 

tion  to  perform.  But  if  the  man  really  believes  the 
truths,  he  applies  for  the  remedy;  and  he  receives  it. 
Thus  his  faith  saves  him,  because  by  means  of  it  he 
sought  the  offered  aid.  Could  we  suppose  him  merely 
to  admit  the  facts,  without  asking  the  remedy,  his  be- 
lief would  avail  him  nothing. 

Such  appears  to  be  the  simple  view  we  are  to  take 
of  faith,  Avhen  we  apply  it  to  the  great  benefits  which 
are  presented  to  us  in  the  Christian  revelation.  This 
is  addressed  to  us  as  beings  in  a  state  both  of  guilt  and 
of  depravity;  and  as  having  no  means  of  our  own,  by 
which  we  can  rescue  ourselves  from  condemnation  and 
impurity.  It  unfolds  a  dispensation  of  peace,  by  which, 
in  perfect  consistency  with  the  harmony  of  his  charac- 
ter, the  Deitv  offers  mercy  and  forgiveness,  and  an 
influence  from  himself  which  has  power  to  purify  the 
moral  being.  These  benefits  are  conferred  on  every 
one  who  believes ;  and  who  is  he  that  believes  7  the 
man  who  is  convinced  of  his  guilt,  and  perceives  his 
impurity;  who  feels  his  inability  to  rescue  himself; 
who  admits  the  efficacy  of  the  remedy,  and  confides  in 
the  sincerity  with  which  it  is  offered; — this  is  he  who 
believes.  His  faith  saves  him;  because,  acting  on  his 
conviction,  according  to  the  uniform  sequence  of  voli- 
tions in  every  sound  mind,  he  asks  the  promised  aid, 
and  asking,  receives  it.  Much  of  tlie  confusion  in 
which  the  subject  has  been  involved,  appears  to  have 
arisen  from  metaphysical  refinements,,  by  which   the 

How  and  why  would  faith  in  such  a  case  save  the  man  ?  Application  of 
the  principle  to  religious  faith?  How  is  the  Christian  revelation  addressed 
to  us  ?  The  exhibition  it  makes  ?  Upon  whom  only  are  these  benefits  to  hv- 
conferred  ?  How  is  it  that  his  faith  saves  him  ?  How  have  the  mistakes 
and  the  confusion  connected  with  this  subject  originated  7 


248  THE    MORAL    RELATION    OF    MAN  [PART  IV. 

various  parts  of  this  mental  process  are  separated  troin 
each  other.  They  form  one  harmonious  whole,  which 
cannot  be  broken.  The  man  will  not  seek  the  remedy 
wlio  believes  not  its  efficacy,  and  perceives  not  his 
moral  necessities;  but,  however  he  may  profess  to  ad- 
mit these  facts,  if  lie  follows  not  out  his  belief  to  its 
natural  result,  by  applying  for  the  remedy,  his'mere 
belief  will  not  profit  him.  The  grounds  on  which 
these  truths  are  addressed  to  us,  are  contained  in  that 
chain  of  evidence  on  which  is  founded  the  whole  sys- 
tem of  Christianity,  taken  along  with  the  conviction 
which  every  man  receives  of  his  actual  moral  condition 
from  the  voice  of  conscience  within.  A  sense  of  the 
sincerity  of  the  offer  we  derive  from  our  impression  of 
the  unchangeable  attributes  of  the  Deity.  Accordingly, 
he  who  believes  is  said  to  give  glory  to  God,  that  is, 
to  receive  his  statements  with  absolute  confidence,  and 
to  form  an  honorable  conception  of  the  sincerity  of  his 
intentions.  He  who  believes  not,  rejects  the  statements 
of  the  Almighty  as  false,  and  treats  him  with  the  con- 
tempt which  we  apply  to  one  whom  we  suppose  to 
promise  Avhat  he  has  no  intention  to  bestow.  The 
man  who  comes  to  God  with  the  hope  of  acceptance  is 
therefore  required  to  come  in  the  assurance  of  faith,  or 
an  implicit  conviction  that  he  is  sincere  in  his  inten- 
tions of  bestowing  the  blessings  which  he  offers;  and 
whosoever  hath  not  this  assurance  does  dishonor  to  the 
divine  character,  or  "maketh  God  a  liar." 

Thus  the  great  system  of  Christian  truth,  harmoni- 
ous and  consistent  in  itself,  and  challenging  the  apprn- 

Dou>»!p  !?rouiicl  on  which  our  evidence  of  these  tmths  rests  ?     T!ii>  vs  w  iii 
w  hicli  Cine]  is  regarded  hy  the  believer?  by  the  unbeliever? 


PART  IV.  1  TOWARDS    THE    DEITY.  249 

bation  of  the  soundest  understanding,  reveals,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  dispensation  of  mercy,  in  accordance  with 
the  highest  ideas  wc  can  form  of  tiie  divine  perfections. 
It  is  supported  by  a  chain  of  evidence,  which  carries 
conviction  to  the  mind  of  the  most  rigid  inquirer;  and 
thus  it  is  a  sound  and  legitimate  object  of  faith.  It 
reveals  also  a  provision  for  purifying  the  moral  nature; 
and  this  in  every  case  accompanies  the  dispensation 
of  mercy  to  those  who  receive  it.  The  effects  of  this 
powerful  agency,  therefore,  become  the  test  and  the 
evidence  of  the  reality  of  faith.  Does  a  man  seek  a 
proof  of  his  acceptance, — the  reference  is  to  facts  in 
his  own  moral  condition.  He  is  to  look  for  it  in  a 
change  which  is  taking  place  in  his  character, — a  new 
direction  of  his  desires,  a  new  regulation  of  his  affec- 
tions, a  habitual  impression,  to  which  he  was  a  stran- 
ger before,  of  the  presence  and  the  perfections  of  the 
Deity,  and  a  new  light  which  has  burst  upon  his  view, 
respecting  his  relations  to  this  life  and  to  that  which  is 
to  come.  He  is  to  seek  this  evidence  in  a  mind  which 
aims  at  no  lower  standard  than  that  which  will  bear 
the  constant  inspection  of  infinite  purity;  he  is  to  seek 
it,  and  to  manifest  it  to  others,  in  a  spirit  which  takes 
no  lower  pattern  than  that  model  of  perfection,  the 
character  of  the  Messiah.  These  acquirements,  indeed, 
are  looked  upon,  not  as  a  ground  of  acceptance,  but  a 
test  of  moral  condition:  not  as,  in  any  degree,  usurping 
the  place  of  the  great  principle  of  faith,  but  as  its  fruits 
and  evidences.     As  these,  then,  are  the  only  proofs  of 

Leading  characteristics  of  this  great  system  of  Christian  truth  ?  The  onlj 
true  test  of  faith  7  Where  are  we  to  look  for  evidences  of  its  genuineness  ? 
How  are  all  moral  acquirem,ents  to  be  regarded,  in  respect  to  man's  mors 
(oudition  and  prospects? 


2.5G  man's  relation  to  the  deity.        [part  r> 

the  reality  of  tliis  principle,  so  they  are  the  only  basis 
on  which  a  man  can  rest  any  sound  conviction  of  his 
moral  aspect  in  the  sight  of  the  Deity;  and  that  sys- 
tem is  founded  on  delusion  and  falsehood,  which,  in 
tins  respect,  holds  out  any  other  ground  of  confidence 
than  the  purification  of  the  heart,  and  a  corresponding 
harmony  of  the  whole  character.  Such  attainment, 
indeed,  is  not  made  at  once,  nor  is  it  ever  made  in  a 
full  and  perfect  manner  in  the  present  state  of  being; 
but,  where  the  great  principle  has  been  fixed  within, 
there  is  a  persevering  efl'ort,  and  a  uniform  contest, 
and  a  continual  aspiration  after  conformity  to  the  great 
model  of  perfection.  Each  step  that  a  man  gains  in 
this  progress  serves  to  extend  his  view  of  the  high  pat- 
tern to  which  his  eye  is  steadily  directed;  and  as  his 
knowledge  of  it  is  thus  enlarged,  he  is  led  by  compari- 
son to  feel  more  and  more  deeply  his  own  deficiency. 
It  thus  produces  increasing  humility,  and  an  increasing 
sense  of  his  own  imperfection,  and  causes  him  continu- 
ally to  feel,  that,  in  this  warfare,  he  requires  a  power 
which  is  not  in  man.  But  he  knows  also  that  this  is 
provided,  as  an  essential  part  of  the  great  system  on 
Avhich  his  hope  i«  established.  Amid  much  weakness, 
therefore,  and  many  infirmities,  his  moral  improve- 
ment goes  forward.  Faint  and  feeble  at  first,  as  the 
earliest  dawn  of  the  morning,  it  becomes  brighter  and 
steadier  as  it  proceeds  in  its  course,  and,  "as  the 
shining  light,  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day." 

Nature  of  the  moral  procrress  to  lie  made  here?     Effects  of  ii  upon  ih? 
h(=art '?     Progress  of  it  to  ultimate  perfection  ? 


APPENDIX 


2  THE    IMMEDIATE    COMMUNICATION 

The  following  chapter  from  "  Dymond's  Essays  on  the  Principles 
of  Morality"  contains  views  connected  with  this  study  of  so  grea* 
importance,  that  it  was  concluded  to  add  it  to  this  work. 

THE  IMMEDIATE  C03IML'NICATI0N  OF  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

Conscionce — Its  nature — Its  authority — Review  of  opinions  respecting  a. 
moral  sense — Bishop  Butler — Lord  Bacon — Lord  Shaftesbury — Watts- 
Voltaire — Locke — Southey — Adam  Smith — Paley — Rousseau — Miltou 
— Judge  Hale — Marcus  Aniouinus — Epicletus — Seneca — Paul — That 
every  human  boinjT  possesses  a  moral  law — Pajgrans — Gradations  of 
light — Prophecy — The  immediate  communication  of  the  Divine  Will 
perpetual— Of  national  vices  :  Infanticide  :  Duelling — Of  savage  life. 

The  reader  is  solicited  to  approach  this  subject  with  that 
mental  seriousness  which  its  nature  requires.  Whatever  be 
his  opinions  upon  the  subject,  whether  he  believes  in  the 
reality  of  such  communication  or  not,  he  ought  not  even  to 
think  respecting  it  but  with  feelings  of  seriousness. 

In  endeavouring  to  investigate  this  reality,  it  becomes  espe- 
cially needful  to  distinguish  the  communication  of  the  Will 
of  God  from  those  mental  phenomena  with  which  it  has  very 
commonly  been  intermingled  and  confotinded.  The  want  of 
this  distinction  has  occasioned  a  confusion  which  has  been 
greatly  injurious  to  the  cause  of  truth.  It  has  occasioned 
great  obscurity  of  opinion  respecting  divine  instruction;  and 
by  associating  error  with  truth,  has  frequently  induced  scep- 
ticism respecting  the  truth  itself. — When  an  intelligent  person 
perceives  that  infaUihle  truth  or  divine  authority  is  described 
as  belonging  to  the  dictates  of  "  Conscience,"  and  when  he 
perceives,  as  he  must  perceive,  that  these  dictates  are  various 
and  sometimes  contradictory ;  he  is  in  danger  of  concluding 
that  no  unerring  and  no  divine  guidance  is  accorded  to  man. 

Upon  this  serious  subject  it  is  therefore  peculiarly  neces- 
sary to  endeavour  to  attain  distinct  ideas,  and  to  employ  those 
words  only  which  convey  distinct  ideas  to  other  men.  The 
first  section  of  the  present  chapter  will  accordingly  be  devoted 
to  some  brief  observations  respecting  the  Conscience,  its  na- 
ture, and  its  authority  ;  by  which  it  is  hoped  the  reader  will 
see  sulficient  reason  to  distinguish  its  dictates  from  that  higher 
guidance,  ros])ecting  which  it  is  the  object  of  the  present 
chapter  to  enquire. 

For  a  kindred  purpose,  it  appears  requisite  to  ofier  a  short 
review  of  popular  and  philosophical  o])inions  respecting  a 
Moral  Sense.  These  opinions  will  be  found  to  have  been 
frtiquently  expressed  in  great  indistinctness  and  ambiguity  of 
language.     The  purpose  of  the  writer   in   referring  to  tlie.*<e 


CHAP.   VI.]  OF    THE    WILL    OF    GOD.  li 

opinions,  is  to  enquire  whether  they  do  not  generally  involve 
a  recognition — obscurely  perhaps,  but  still  a  recognition — of 
the  principle,  that  God  communicates  his  will  to  the  mind. 
If  they  do  this,  and  if  they  do  it  without  design  or  conscious- 
ness, no  trifling  testimony  is  afforded  to  the  truth  of  the  prin- 
ciple :  for  how  should  this  principle  thus  secretly  recommend 
itself  to  the  minds  of  men,  except  by  the  influence  of  its  own 
evidence  ? 


SECTION  I. 
CONSCIENCE,  ITS  NATURE  AND  AUTHORITY. 

In  the  attempt  to  attach  distinct  notions  to  the  term  "  Con- 
science," we  have  to  request  the  reader  not  to  estimate  the 
accuracy  of  our  observations  by  the  notions  which  he  may 
have  habitually  connected  with  the  word.  Our  disquisition 
is  not  about  terms  but  truths.  If  the  observations  are  in  them- 
selves just,  our  principal  object  is  attained.  The  secondary 
object,  that  of  connecting  truth  with  appropriate  terms,  is  only 
so  far  attainable  by  a  writer,  as  shall  be  attained  by  an  uni- 
form employment  of  words  in  determinate  senses  in  his  own 
practice. 

Men  possess  notions  of  right  and  wrong ;  they  possess  a 
belief  that,  under  given  circumstances,  they  ought  to  do  one 
thing  or  to  forbear  another.  This  belief  I  would  call  a  con- 
scientious belief.  And  when  such  a  belief  exists  in  a  man's 
mind  in  reference  to  a  number  of  actions,  I  would  call  the 
sum  or  aggregate  of  his  notions  respecting  what  is  right  and 
wrong,  his  Conscience. 

To  possess  notions  of  right  and  wrong  in  human  conduct — 
to  be  convinced  that  we  ought  to  do  or  to  forbear  an  action — 
implies  and  supposes  a  sense  of  obligation  existent  in  the 
mind.  A  man  who  feels  that  it  is  wrong  for  him  to  do  a 
thing,  possesses  a  sense  of  obligation  to  refrain.  Into  the 
origin  of  this  sense  of  obligation,  or  how  it  is  induced  into  the 
mind,  we  do  not  enquire  :  it  is  sufficient  for  our  purpose  that 
it  exists  ;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  its  existence  is 
consequent  of  the  will  of  God. 

In  most  men — perhaps  in  all- -this  sense  of  obligation  re- 
fers, with  greater  or  less  distinctness,  to  the   will  of  a  sut)c- 
rior  being.     The  imoression,  however  obscure,  is,  in  gene 
22 


4  THE    IMMEDIATE    COMMUNICATION  [eSSAY   I. 

ral,  fundamentally  this :  I  must  do  so  or  so,  because   God 
requires  it. 

It  is  found  that  this  sense  of  obligation  is  sometimes  con- 
nected, in  the  minds  of  separate  individuals,  with  different 
actions.  One  man  thinks  he  oaght  to  do  a  thing  from  which 
another  thinks  he  ought  to  forbear.  Upon  the  great  questions^ 
of  morality  there  is  indeed,  in  general,  a  congruHy  of  human 
judgment ;  yet  subjects  do  arise  respecting  which  one  man's 
conscience  dictates  an  act  different  from  that  which  is  dic- 
tated by  another's.  It  is  not.  therefore  esbential  to  a  con- 
scientious judgment  of  righl  and  wrong,  that  that  judgment 
should  be  in  strict  accordance,  with  the  Moral  Law.  Some 
men's  consciences  dictate  that  which  the  Moral  Law  does 
not  enjoin ;  and  this  law  enjoins  some  points  which  are  not 
enforced  by  every  man's  conscience.  This  is  precisely  the 
result  which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  is  reasonable  to 
expect.  Of  these  judgments  respecting  what  is  right,  with 
which  the  sense  of  obligation  becomes  from  time  to  time  con- 
nected, some  are  induced  by  the  instructions  or  example  of 
others  ;  some  by  our  own  reflection  or  enquiry ;  some  per- 
haps from  the  written  law  of  revelation  ;  and  some,  as  we 
have  cause  to  conclude,  from  the  direct  intimations  of  the  Di- 
vine Will. 

It  is  manifest  that  if  the  sense  of  obligation  is  sometimes 
connected  with  subjects  that  are  proposed  to  us  merely  by 
the  instruction  of  others,  or  if  the  coimexion  results  from  the 
power  of  association  and  habit,  or  from  the  fallible  investiga- 
tions of  our  own  minds — that  sense  of  obligation  will  be  con- 
nected, in  different  individuals,  with  different  subjects.  So 
that  it  may  sometimes  happen  that  a  man  can  say,  I  con- 
scientiously think  I  ought  to  do  a  certain  action,  and  yet 
that  his  neighbour  can  say,  I  conscientiously  tbink  the  con- 
trary. "  With  respect  to  particular  actions,  opinion  deter- 
mines whether  they  are  good  or  ill ;  and  Consciei.ce  approves, 
or  disapproves,  in  consequence  of  this  determination,  whether 
it  be  in  favour  of  truth  or  falsehood."* 

Such  considerations  enable  us  to  account  for  the  diversity 
of  the  dictates  of  the  conscience  in  individuals  respectively. 
A  person  is  brought  up  amongst  Catholics,  and  is  taught  from 
his  childhood  that  flesh  ought  not  to  be  eaten  in  Lent.  The 
arguments  of  those  around  him,  or  perhaps  their  authority, 
satisfy  him  that  what  he  is  taught  is  truth.  The  sense  of  uhli- 
gallon  thus  becomes  connected  with  a  refusal  to  eat  flesh  in 

»  AHveiitnror  ;  No.  91 


CKAx^.    VI. j  or    THE     WILL    Of    OOD.  O 

Lent ;  and  thenceforth  he  says  that  the  abstinence  is  dictated 
by  his  conscience.  A  Protestant  youth  is  taught  the  con- 
trary. Argument  or  authority  satisfies  him  that  flesh  may 
lawt'ully  be  eaten  every  day  in  the  year.  His  sense  of  obli- 
gation therefore  is  not  connected  with  the  abstinence  ;  and 
thenceforth  he  says  that  eating  flesh  in  Lent  does  not  violate 
his  conscience.     And  so  of  a  multitude  of  other  questions. 

When  therefore  a  person  says,  my  conscience  dictates  to 
me  that  I  ought  to  perform  such  an  action,  he  means — or  in 
the  use  of  such  language  he  ought  to  mean — that  the  sense 
of  obligation  which  subsists  in  his  mind  is  connected  with 
that  action  ;  that,  so  far  as  his  judgment  is  enlightened,  it  is 
a  requisition  of  the  law  of  God. 

But  not  all  our  opinions  respecting  morality  and  religion 
are  derived  from  education  or  reasoning.  He  who  finds  in 
Scripture  the  precept,  "  Thou  shalj;  love  thy  neighbour  as  thy- 
self," derives  an  opinion  respecting  the  duty  of  loving  others 
from  the  discovery  of  this  expression  of  the  Will  of  God. 
His  sense  of  obligation  is  connected  with  benevolence  to- 
wards  others  in  consequence  of  this  discovery ;  or,  in  other 
words,  his  understanding  has  been  informed  by  the  Moral 
Law,  and  a  new  duty  is  added  to  those  which  are  dictated  by 
his  conscience.  Thus  it  is  that  Scripture,  by  informing  the 
judgment,  extends  the  jurisdiction  of  conscience  ;  and  it  is 
hence,  in  part,  that  in  those  who  seriously  study  the  Scrip- 
tures, the  conscience  appears  so  much  more  vigilant  and 
operative  than  in  many  who  do  not  possess,  or  do  not  regard 
them.  Many  of  the  mistakes  which  education  introduces, 
many  of  the  fallacies  to  which  our  own  speculations  lead  us, 
are  corrected  by  this  law.  In  the  case  of  our  Catholic,  if  a 
reference  to  Scripture  should  convince  him  that  the  judgment 
he  has  formed  respecting  abstinence  from  flesh  is  not  founded 
on  the  Law  of  God,  the  sense  of  obligation  becomes  detached 
from  its  subject ;  and  thenceforth  his  conscience  ceases  to 
dictate  that  he  should  abstain  from  flesh  in  Lent.  Yet  Scrip- 
ture does  not  decide  every  question  respecting  human  duty, 
and  in  some  instances  individuals  judge  differently  of  the  de-' 
cisions  w^hich  Scripture  gives.  This,  again,  occasions  some 
diversity  in  the  dictates  of  the  Conscience  ;  it  occasions  the 
sense  of  obligation  to  become  connected  with  dissimilar,  and 
possibly  incompatible,  actions. 

But  another  portion  of  men's  judgments  respecting  moral 
affairs  is  derived  from  immediate  intimations  of  the  Divine 
Will.  (Tliis  we  must  be  allowed  for  the  present  to  assume.) 
These  intimations  inform  sometimes  the  judgment ;   correct 


THE     I.MMEDIATL     COMMUNICATION 


[essj 


its  mistakes  ;  and  increase  and  give  distinctness  to  our  know- 
ledge— thus  operating,  as  the  Scriptures  operate,  to  connect 
the  sense  of  obligation  more  accurately  with  those  actions 
which  are  conformable  with  the  Will  of  God.  It  does  not, 
howcA^er,  follow,  by  any  sort  of  necessity,  that  this  higher  in- 
struction must  correct  all  the  mistakes  of  the  judgment ;  that 
because  it  imparts  some  light,  that  light  must  be  perfect  day ; 
that  because  it  communicates  some  moral  or  religious  truth, 
it  must  connnunicate  all  the  truths  of  religion  and  morality. 
Nor,  again,  does  it  follow  that  individuals  must  each  receive 
the  same  access  of  knowledge.  It  is  evidently  as  possible 
that  it  should  be  communicated  in  different  degrees  to  dif- 
ferent individuals,  as  that  it  should  be  communicated  at  all. 
For  which  plain  reasons  we  are  still  to  expect,  what  in  fact 
we  find,  that  although  the  judgment  receives  light  from  a 
superhuman  intelligence,  the  degree  of  that  light  varies  in  in- 
dividuals ;  and  that  tiie  sense  of  obligation  is  connected  with 
fewer  subjects,  and  attended  with  less  accuracy,  in  the  minds 
of  some  men  than  of  others. 

Wifh  respect  to  the  authority  which  properly  belongs  to 
Conscience  as  a  director  of  individual  conduct,  it  appears 
manifest,  alike  from  reason  and  from  Scripture,  that  it  is  great. 
When  a  man  believes,  upon  due  deliberation,  that  a  certain 
action  is  right,  that  action  is  right  to  him.  And  this  is  true, 
whether  the  action  be  or  be  not  required  of  mankind  by  the 
Moral  Law.*  The  fact  that  in  his  mind  the  sense  of  obligation 
attaches  to  the  act,  and  that  he  has  duly  deliberated  upon  the 
accuracy  of  his  judgment,  makes  the  dictate  of  his  Conscience 
upon  that  subject  an  authoritative  dictate.  The  individual  is 
to  be  held  guilty  if  he  violates  his  Conscience — if  he  does 
one  thing,  whilst  his  sense  of  obligation  is  directed  to  its  con- 
trary. Nor,  if  his  judgment  should  not  be  accurately  ijiformed, 
if  his  sense  of  obligation  sliould  not  be  connected  with  a  proper 
subject,  is  the  guilt  of  violating  his  Conscience  taken  away. 
Were  it  otherwise,  a  person  might  be  held  virtuous  for  acting 
in  opposition  to  his  apprehensions  of  duty ;  or  guilty,  for 
doing  what  he  believed  to  be  right.  "  It  is  happy  for  us  that 
our  title  to  the  character  of  virtuous  beings,  depends  not  upon 
the  justness  of  our  opinions  or  the  constant  objective  rectitude 
of  all  we  do,  but  upon  the  conformity  of  our  actions  to  the  sin- 
cere convictions  of  our  minds."!  Dr.  Furneaux  says,  "To 
secure  the  favour  of  God  and  the  rewards  of  true  religion,  we 

*  ••  By  Conscience  all  men  are  restrained  from  intentional  ill — it  infal- 
libly directs  us  lo  avoid  guilt,  but  is  not  intended  to  secure  us  from  error." 


—Advent.  No.  91. 


t  Dr.  Pric.e. 


CHAP.    VI.  I  OF    THE    WILL    OF    GOD.  7 

must  follow  our  own  consciences  and  judgments  according  to 
the  best  light  we  can  attain."*  And  I  am  esj)ecially  disposed 
to  add  tlie  testimony  of  Sir  William  Tein[)le,  becauje  he  re- 
cognizes the  doctrine  which  has  just  been  advanced,  that  our 
judgments  are  enlightened  by  superhuman  agency.  "  The 
way  to  our  future  happiness  must  bo  left,  at  last,  to  the  im- 
pressions made  upon  every  man's  belief  and  conscience  either 
by  natural  or  supernatural  arguments  and  means. "f — Accord- 
ingly there  appears  no  reason  to  doubt  that  some  w^ll  stand 
convicted  in  the  sight  of  the  Omidscient  Judge,  for  actions 
which  his  Moral  Law  has  not  forbidden ;  and  that  some  may 
be  uncondemned  for  actions  which  that  law  does  not  allow. 
The  distinction  here  is  the  same  as  that  to  which  we  have 
before  had  occasion  to  allude,  between  the  desert  of  the  agent 
and  the  quahty  of  the  act.  Of  this  distinction  an  illustration 
is  contained  in  Isaiah  x.  It  was  the  divine  will  that  a  cer- 
tain specific  course  of  action  should  be  pursued  in  punishing 
the  Israelites.  For  the  performance  of  this,  the  king  of  As- 
syria was  employed : — "  I  will  give  him  a  charge  to  take  the 
spoil,  and  to  take  the  prey,  and  to  tread  them  down  like  the 
mire  of  the  streets."  This  charge  the  Assyrian  monarch  ful- 
filled ;  he  did  the  will  of  God  ;  but  then  his  intention  was 
criminal ;  he  "  meant  not  so  :"  and  therefore,  when  the  "  whole 
work"  is  performed,  "  I  v^iW punjsh,^'  says  the  Almighty,  "the 
fruit  of  the  stout  heart  of  the  king  of  Assyria,  and  the  glory 
of  his  high  looks." 

But  it  was  said  that  these  principles  respecting  the  author- 
ity of  Conscience  were  recognized  in  Scripture.  "  One  be- 
lieveth  that  he  may  eat  all  things  :  another  who  is  weak  eateth 
herbs.  One  man  esteemeth  one  day  above  another :  another 
esteemeth  every  day  alike."  Here,  then,  are  differences, 
nay,  contrarieties  of  conscientious  judgments.  And  wdiat  a^-e 
the  parties  directed  severally  to  do  ? — "  Let  every  man  be 
fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind  ;"  that  is,  let  the  full  persua- 
sion of  his  own  mind  be  every  man's  rule  of  action.  The 
situation  of  these  parties  was,  that  one  perceived  the  truth 
upon  the  subject,  and  the  other  did  not ;  that  in  one  the  sense 
of  obligation  was  connected  with  an  accurate,  in  the  other 
with  an  inaccurate,  opinion.  Thus,  again  : — "  /  know,  and 
am  persuaded  by  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  there  is  nothing  un- 
clean of  itself;"  therefore,  absolutely  speaking,  it  is  lav.ful  to 
eat  all  things  ;  "  but  to  him  that  esteemeth  any  thing  to  be  im- 
clean,  to  him  it  is  unclean."     The  question  is  not,  whether 

•  Essay  on  Tolpration,  p.  8.  t  Works  :  v.  1.  p.  55.  f.  1740. 


8  THE     IMMEDiA  ri:    CO.ViilU  N ICATION  [eSSAY   1 

his  juilgrnent  was  correct,  but  what  that  judgment  actually 
was.  To  the  doubter,  the  uncleanness,  that  is,  the  sin  of  eat- 
ing, was  certain,  though  the  act  was  right.  Again :  "All  thing? 
indeed  are  pure  ;  but  it  is  3vil  for  that  man  who  eateth  with 
offence."  And,  again,  as  a  general  rule  :  "  He  that  doubteth 
is  condemned  if  he  eat,  because  he  eateth  not  of  faith ;  for 
whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin."* 

And  here  we  possess  a  sufficient  answer  to  those  who 
affect  to  make  light  of  the  authority  of  Conscience,  and  ex- 
claim, "  Every  man  pleads  his  conscientious  opinions,  and 
that  he  is  bound  in  conscience  to  do  this  or  that ;  and  yet  his 
neighbour  makes  the  same  plea  and  urges  the  same  obligation 
to  do  just  the  contrary.  But  what  then  ?  These  persons' 
judgments  differed  :  that  we  might  expect,  for  they  are  falli- 
ble ;  but  their  sense  of  obligation  was,  in  each  case,  really 
attached  to  its  subject,  and  was  in  each  case  authoritative. 

One  observation  remains  :  that  although  a  man  ought  to 
make  his  conduct  conform  to  his  conscience,  yet  he  may 
sometimes  justly  be  held  criminal  for  the  errors  of  his  opinion. 
Men  often  judge  amiss  respecting  their  duties  in  consequence 
of  their  own  faults  :  some  take  little  pains  to  ascertain  the 
truth ;  some  voluntarily  exclude  knowledge  ;  and  most  men 
would  possess  more  accurate  perceptions  of  the  Moral  Law 
if  they  sulficiently  endeavoured  to  obtain  them.  And,  there- 
fore, although  a  man  may  not  be  punished  foi  a  given  act 
which  he  ignorantly  supposes  to  be  lawful,  he  may  be  pun- 
ished for  that  ignorance  in  which  his  supposition  originates. 
Which  consideration  may  perhaps  account  for  the  expression, 
that  he  who  ignorantly  failed  to  do  his  master's  will  "  shall 
be  beaten  with  ^qw  stripes."  There  is  a  degree  of  wicked- 
ness, to  the  agents  of  which  God  at  length  "  sends  strong  de- 
lusion" that  they  may  "  believe  a  lie."  In  this  state  of  strong 
delusion  they  perhaps  may,  without  violating  any  sense  of 
obligation,  do  many  wicked  actions.  The  principles  which 
have  been  here  delivered  would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the 
punishment  which  awaits  such  men  will  have  respect  rathei 
to  that  intensity  of  wickedness  of  which  delusion  was  the 
consequence,  than  to  those  particular  acts  which  they  might 
ignorantly  commit  under  the  inlluence  of  the  deiusion  itself. 
Tliis  observation  is  offered  to  the  reader  because  some  writers 
have  obscured  the  present  subject  by  speculating  upon  the 
moral  deserts  of  those  desperately  bad  men,  who  occasionally 
have  committed  atrocious  acts  under  the  notion  that  they  were 
doing  right. 

*  r    n.  xiv 


CHAP.    VI.J  OF    THE     WILL    OF    GOD.  9 

Let  US  then,  when  we  direct  our  serious  enquiry  to  the 
Immediate  Communication  of  the  Divine  Will,  carefully  dis- 
tinguish that  Communication  from  the  dictates  of  the  con- 
science. They  are  separate  and  distinct  considerations.  Il 
is  obvious  that  those  positions  which  some  persons  advance  ; 
— "  Conscience  is  our  infallible  guide," — "  Conscience  is  the 
voice  of  the  Deity,"  &c.,  are  wholly  improper  and  inadmissi- 
ble The  term  may  indeed  have  been  employed  synonyinoujiy 
for  the  voice  of  God :  but  this  ought  never  to  be  done.  It  is 
to  induce  confusion  of  language  respecting  a  subject  which 
ought  always  to  be  distinctly  exhibited ;  and  the  necessity 
lor  avoiding  ambiguity  is  so  much  the  greater,  as  the  conse- 
quences of  that  ambiguity  are  more  serious  :  it  is  obvious 
that,  on  these  subjects,  inaccuracy  of  language  gives  rise  to 
serious  error  of  opinion. 

REVIEW  OF  OPINIONS  RESPECTING  A  MORAL  SENSE. 

The  purpose  for  which  this  brief  review  is  offered  to  the 
reader,  is  explained  in  very  few  words.  It  is  to  enquire,  by 
a  reference  to  the  written  opinions  of  many  persons,  whether 
they  do  not  agree  in  asserting  that  our  Creator  communicates 
some  portions  of  his  Moral  Law  immediately  to  the  human 
mind.  These  opinions  are  frequently  delivered,  as  the  reader 
will  presently  discover,  in  great  ambig-uity  of  language  ;  but 
in  the  midst  of  this  ambiguity  there  appears  to  exist  one  per- 
vading truth — a  truth  in  testimony  to  which  these  opinions 
are  not  the  less  satisfactory  oecause,  in  some  instances,  the 
testimony  is  undesigned.  The  reader  is  requested  to  observe, 
as  he  passes  on,  whether  many  of  the  difficulties  which  en- 
quirers have  found  or  made,  are  not  solved  by  the  supposition 
of  a  divine  communication,  and  whether  they  can  be  solved 
by  any  other. 

"  The  Author  of  nature  has  much  better  furnished  us  for  a 
virtuous  conduct  than  our  moralists  seem  to  imagine,  by  al- 
most as  quick  and  powerful  instructions  as  we  have  for  the 
preservation  of  our  bodies."* 

"  It  is  manifest,  great  part  of  common  language  and  of 
common  behaviour  over  the  world,  is  formed  upon  the  sup- 
position of  a  moral  faculty,  whether  called  conscience,  moral 
reason,  moral  sense,  or  divine  reason ;  whether  considered 
as  a  sentiment  of  the  understanding,  or  as  a  perception  of  the 
heart,  or,  which  seems  the  truth,  as  including  both."t     Is  U 

*  Dr.  Hutcheson :  Enquiry  concerning  Moral  Good  and  Evil, 
t  Bishop  Butler :  Enquiry  on  Virtue. 


10 


THE    LMMEDIATE    OOMMUXICATION 


not  remarkable  that  for  a  "  faculty"  so  well  known  "  over  the 
world,"  even  a  name  has  not  been  found,  and  that  a  Christian 
bishop  accumulates  a  multiplicity  of  ambiguous  epithets  to 
explain  his  meaning  ?  Bishop  Butler  says  again  of  Conscience, 
"  To  preside  and  govern,  from  the  very  economy  and  consti- 
tution of  man,  belongs  to  it.  This  faculty  was  placed  within 
10  be  our  proper  governor  to  direct  and  regulate  all  undue 
principles,  passions,  and  motives  of  action. — It  carries  its 
own  authority  with  it,  that  it  is  our  natural  guide,  the  guide 
assigned  us  by  the  Author  of  our  nature."  Would  it  have 
been  unreasonable  to  conclude,  that  there  was  at  least  some 
connexion  between  this  reprover  of  "  all  undue  principles, 
passions,  and  motives,"  and  that  law  of  which  the  New  Tes- 
tament speaks,  "  All  things  that  are  reproved  are  made  mani- 
fest by  the  light  ?"* 

Blair  says,  "  Conscience  is  felt  to  act  as  the  delegate  of  an 
invisible  Ruler ;" — "  Conscience  is  the  guide,  or  the  enlight- 
ening or  directing  principle  of  our  conduct,"!  In  tlus  in- 
stance, as  in  many  others.  Conscience  appears  to  be  used  in 
an  indeterminate  sense.  Conscience  is  not  an  enlightening 
principle,  but  a  principle  which  is  enlightened.  It  is  not  a 
legislator,  but  a  repository  of  statutes.  Yet  the  reader  will 
perceive  the  fundamental  truth,  that  man  is  in  fact  illuminated, 
and  illuminated  by  an  invisible  Ruler.  In  the  thirteenth  ser- 
mon there  is  an  expression  more  distinct :  "  God  has  invested 
Conscience  with  authority  to  promulgate  his  laws."  It  is 
obvious  that  the  Divine  Being  must  have  communicated  his 
laws,  before  they  could  have  been  promulgated  by  Conscience. 
In  accordance  with  which  the  author  says  in  another  place, 
"  Under  the  tuition  of  God  let  us  put  ourselves." — "  A  Hea- 
venly Conductor  vouchsafes  his  aid." — "  Divine  light  de- 
scends to  guide  our  steps. "|  It  were  to  be  wished  that  such 
sentiments  were  not  obscured  by  propositions  like  these  :  "  A 
sense  of  right  and  wrong  in  conduct,  or  of  moral  good  and 
evil,  belongs  to  human  nature.'" — "  Such  sentiments  are  coeval 
With  human  nature ;  for  they  are  the  remains  of  a  law  which 
was  originally  written  in  our  heart. '"t^ 

I  do  not  know  whether  the  reader  will  be  able  to  perceive 
with  distinctness  the  ideas  of  Lord  Bacon  and  of  Dr.  Rush 
in  the  following  quotations,  but  1  think  he  will  perceive  that 
they  involve  a  recognition — obscure  and  indeterminate,  but 
still  a  recognition — of  the  doctrine,  that  the  Deity  couAmuni- 
cates  his  laws  to  tUe  minds  of  men.     Dr.  Rush  says,  "  It 

*  Eph.  V.  \A.  +  Senions.  i  Strmon  7.  ^  Serinon  13. 


CHAP.    VI.]  OF    THE     WILL    OF    GOP.  11 

would  seem  as  if  the  Supreme  Being  had  preserved  the  Moral 
Faculty  in  man  from  the  ruins  of  his  fall,  on  purpose  to  guide 
him  back  again  to  paradise ;  and  at  the  same  time  had  consti- 
tuted the  Conscience,  both  in  man  and  fallen  spirits,  a  kind  of 
royalty  in  his  moral  empire,  on  purpose  to  show  his  property 
in  all  intelligent  creatures,  and  their  original  resemblance  to 
himself."  And  Lord  Bacon  says,  "  The  light  of  nature  not 
only  shines  upon  the  human  mind  through  the  medium  of  a  ra- 
tional faculty,  but  hy  an.  internal  instinct  according  to  the  law 
of  conscience,  wiiich  is  a  sparkle  of  the  purity  of  man's  first 
estate." 

''  The  faculties  of  our  minds  are  so  formed  by  nature,  that 
as  soon  as  we  be2;in  to  reason,  we  may  also  begin,  in  some 
measure  to  distinguish  good  from  evil." — "  We  prefer  virtue 
to  vice  on  account  of  the  seeds  planted  in  us."* 

The  following  is  not  the  less  worthy  notice  because  it  is 
from  the  pen  of  Lord  Shaftesbury :  "  Sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  being  as  natural  to  us  as  natural  affection  itself,  and 
being  a  first  principle  in  our  constitution  and  make,  there  is 
no  speculation,  opinion,  persuasion,  or  belief,  which  is  capa- 
ble, immediately  or  directly,  to  exclude  or  destroy  it."t  Sen- 
timents such  as  these  are  very  commonly  expressed ;  and 
what  do  they  imply  ?  If  sense  of  right  and  wrong  is  natural 
to  us,  it  is  because  He  who  created  us  has  placed  it  in  our 
minds.  The  conclusion  too  is  inevitable,  that  this  sense 
must  indicate  the  Divine  Law  by  which  right  and  wrong  are 
discriminated.  Now  we  do  not  say  that  these  sentiments 
are  absolutely  just,  or  that  a  sense  of  right  and  wrong  is 
strictly  "  natural"  to  man,  but  we  say  that  the  sentiments 
involve  the  supposition  of  some  mode  of  Di-v4ne  Guidance — 
some  mode  in  which  the  Moral  Law  of  God,  or  a  part  of  it, 
is  communicated  by  him  to  mankind.  And  if  this  be  indeed 
true,  it  may  surely,  with  all  reason,  be  asked,  why  we  should 
not  assent  to  the  reality  of  that  mode  of  communication,  of 
which,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  Christianity  asserts  the 
existence  ? 

"  The  first  principles  of  morals  are  the  immediate  dictates 
of  the  moral  faculty." — "  By  the  moral  faculty,  or  conscience, 
solely,  we  have  the  original  conception  of  right  and  wrong." 
— "  It  is  evident  that  this  principle  has,  from  its  nature,  au- 
thority to  direct  and  determine  with  regard  to  our  conduct ; 
to  judge,  to  acquit  or  condemn,  and  even  to  punish  ;  an  author- 
ity which  belongs  to  no  other  principle  of  the  human  mind." 

*  John  Le  Clerc  t  C'liaracteristics. 


14  THE     IMMEDIATE    COMMUNICATION  [eSSAY    I 

cious  casuistry."*  This  may  not  be  absolutely  true ;  but 
there  must  be  some  truth  which  it  is  like,  or  such  a  proposi- 
tion would  not  be  advanced.  Who  ever  thought  of  attribu- 
ting to  the  unsophisticated  heart  the  power  of  unerringly 
pronouncing  on  questions  oi  prudence  ?  Yet  questions  of  right 
and  wrong  are  not,  in  their  own  nature,  more  easily  solved 
than  those  of  prudence. 

"  Boys  do  not  listen  to  sermons.  They  need  not  he  told 
what  is  right ;  like  men,  they  all  know  their  duty  sujfficiently ; 
the  grand  difficulty  is  to  practise  it."t  Neither  may  this  be 
true  ;  and  it  is  not  true.  But  upon  what  species  of  knowledge 
would  any  writer  think  of  affirming  that  boys  need  not  be  in- 
structed, except  upon  the  single  species,  the  knowledge  of 
duty  ?  And  how  should  they  know  this  without  instruction, 
unless  their  Creator  has  taught  them  ? 

Dr.  Rush  exhibits  the  same  views  in  a  more  determinate 
form :  "  Happily  for  the  human  race,  the  intimations  of  duty 
and  the  road  to  happiness  are  not  leit  to  the  slow  operations 
or  doubtful  inductions  of  reason.  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that 
while  second  thougl^ts  are  best  in  matters  of  judgment,  first 
thoughts  are  always  to  be  preferred  in  matters  that  relate  to 
morality  .''''\ 

Adam  Smith :  "  It  is  altogether  absurd  and  unintelligible, 
to  suppose  that  the  first  perceptions  of  right  and  wrong  can  be 
derived  from  reason.  These  first  perceptions  cannot  be  the 
object  of  reason,  but  of  immediate  sense  and  feeling." — 
"  Though  man  has  been  rendered  the  immediate  judge  of  man- 
kind, an  appeal  lies  from  his  sentence  to  a  much  higher  tri- 
bimal,  to  the  tribunal  of  their  own  Consciences,  to  that  of  the 
man  within  the  breast,  the  great  judge  and  arbiter  of  their 
conduct."  In  some  cases  in  which  censure  is  violently  poured 
u})on  us,  the  judgments  of  the  man  within,  are,  however,  nuu-h 
shaken  in  the  steadiness  and  firmness  of  their  decision.  "  In 
such  cases,  this  demigod  within  the  breast  appears,  like  the 
demigods  of  the  poets,  though  partly  of  immortal,  yet,  partly, 
loo,  of  mortal  extraction."  Our  moral  faculties  *'  were  set  up 
within  us  to  be  the  supreme  arbiters  of  all  our  actions."  "  The 
rules  which  they  prescribe  are  to  be  regarded  as  the  com- 
mands and  laws  of  the  Deity,  pronnilgated  by  those  vice- 
gerents which  he  has  thus  set  up  within  us."  "  Some  ques- 
tions must  be  left  altogether  to  the  decision  of  the  man  within 
llie  breast."  And  let  the  reader  mark  what  follows  :  "  If  we 
"  listen  with  diligent  and  reverential  attention  to  what  he  sug- 

•  Dr.  Southey  :  Book  of  the  Church,  c.  10.  t  West.  Rev.  No.  1 

t  Influence  oi  Physical  Causes  on  the  Moral  Faculty. 


CHAP   VI.]  OF    THE    WILL    OF    GOD.  15 

gests  to  US,  his  voice  will  never  deceive  us.  We  shall  stand 
in  no  need  of  casuistic  rules  to  direct  our  conduct."  How 
wonderful  that  such  a  man,  who  uses  almost  the  language  of 
Scripture,  appears  not  even  to  have  thought  of  the  truth — 
"  the  Anointing  which  ye  have  received  of  him  abideth  in 
you,  and  ye  need  not  that  any  man  teach  you !"  for  he  does 
not  appear  to  have  thought  of  it.  He  intimates  that  this  vice- 
gerent of  God,  this  undeceiving  teacher  to  whom  we  are  to 
listen  with  reverential  attention,  is  some  "  contrivance  or 
mechanism  within ;"  and  says  that  to  examine  what  contriv- 
ance or  mechanism  it  is,  "  is  a  mere  matter  of  philosophical 
curiosity."* 

A  matter  of  philosophical  curiosity.  Dr.  Paley  seems  to  have 
thought  a  kindred  enquiry  to  be.  He  discusses  the  question, 
whether  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  Moral  Sense  or  not ;  and 
thus  sums  up  the  argument :  "  Upon  the  whole  it  seems  to 
me,  either  that  there  exist  no  such  instincts  as  compose  what 
is  called  the  moral  sense,  or  that  they  are  not  now  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  prejudices  and  habits." — "  This  celebrated 
question  therefore  becomes,  in  our  system,  a  question  of  pure 
curiosity ;  and  as  such,  we  dismiss  it  to  the  determination  of 
those  who  are  more  inquisitive  than  we  are  concerned  to  be, 
about  the  natural  history  and  constitution  of  the  human  spe- 
cies."! But  in  another  work,  a  w^ork  in  which  he  did  not 
bind  himself  to  the  support  of  a  philosophical  S3'stem,  he  holds 
other  langaiage  :  "  Conscience,  our  own  Conscience,  is  to  be 
our  guide  in  all  things."  "  It  is  through  the  whisperings  of 
Conscience  that  the  Spirit  speaks.  If  men  are  wilfully  deaf 
to  their  Consciences  they  cannot  hear  the  Spirit.  If,  hearing, 
if  being  compelled  to  hear  the  remonstrances  of  Conscience, 
they  nev^ertheless  decide  and  resolve  and  determine  to  go 
against  them,  then  they  grieve,  then  they  defy,  then  they  do 
despite  to,  the  Spirit  oi"  God."  "  Is  it  superstition  ?  Is  it  not 
on  the  contrary  a  just  and  reasonable  piety  to  implore  of  God 
the  guidance  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  when  we  have  any  thing  of 
great  importance  to  decide  upon  or  undertake  ?" — "  It  being 
confessed  that  we  cannot  ordinarily  distinguish,  at  the  time, 
the  suggestions  of  the  Spirit  from  the  operations  of  our  minds, 
it  may  be  asked.  How  are  we  to  listen  to  them  ?  The  answer 
is,  by  attending,  universally,  to  the  admonitions  within  us."j 
The  tendency  of  these  quotations  to  enforce  our  general  ar- 
gument, is  plain  and  powerful.  But  the  reader  should  notice 
here  another  and  a  very  interesting  consideration.  Paley 
23 


16  THE   isiiMEDiATE   co;.l:».^u^"ICA TioN.         [es&ay  1. 

says,  "  Our  own  Conscience  is  to  be  our  guide  in  all  things.'* 
— We  are  to  attend  universally  to  the  admonitions  within  us 
Now  he  writes  a  book  of  moral  philosophy,  that  is,  a  book  that 
shall  "  teach  men  their  duty  and  the  reasons  of  it,"  and  from 
this  book  he  absolutely  excludes  this  law  which  men  should 
universally  obey,  this  law  which  should  be  their  "  guide  in  all 
things." 

"  Conscience,  Conscience,"  exclaims  Rousseau  in  his  Pen- 
sees,  "  Divine  Instinct,  Immortal  and  Heavenly  Voice,  sure 
Guide  of  a  being  ignorant  and  limited  but  intelligent  and  free, 
infallible  Judge  of  good  and  evil,  by  which  man  is  made  like 
unto  God !"  Here  are  attributes  which,  if  they  be  justly 
assigned,  certainly  cannot  belong  to  humanity ;  or  if  they  do 
belong  to  humanity,  an  apostle  certainly  could  not  be  accurate 
when  he  said  that  in  us,  that  is  in  our  flesh,  "  dwellcth  no  good 
thing."  Another  observation  of  Rousseau's  is  worth  transcrib- 
ing :  "  Our  own  conscience  is  the  most  enlightened  philo- 
sopher. There  is  no  need  to  be  acquainted  with  Tully's 
Offices  to  make  a  man  of  probity ;  and  perhaps  the  most  vir 
tuous  woman  in  the  world  is  the  least  acquainted  with  the  de 
finition  of  virtue." 

"  And  T  will  place  within  them  as  a  guide, 
My  Umpire,  Conscience ;  whom  if  they  will  near 
Light  after  Ught,  well  used,  they  shall  attain."* 

This  is  the  language  of  Milton  ;  and  we  have  thus  his  tes- 
timony added  to  the  many,  that  God  has  placed  within  us  an 
Umpire  which  shall  pronounce.  His  own  laws  in  our  hearts. 
Thus  in  his  "  Christian  Doctrine"  more  clearly  :  '•  They  can 
lay  claim  to  nothing  more  than  human  powers,  assisted  by 
that  spiritual  illumination  which  is  common  to  all.'*] 

Judge  Hale  :  "  Any  man  that  sincerely  and  truly  fears  Al- 
mighty God,  and  calls  and  relies  upon  him  for  his  direction, 
has  it  as  really  as  a  son  has  the  counsel  and  direction  of  his 
father ;  and  though  the  voice  be  not  audible  nor  discernible 
by  sense,  yet  it  is  equally  as  real  as  if  a  man  heard  a  voice 
saying,  "  This  is  the  way,  walk  in  it." 

The  sentiments  of  the  ancient  philosophers,  &c.,  should 
not  be  forgotten,  and  the  rather  because  their  language  is  fre- 
quently much  more  distinct  and  satisfactory  than  that  of  the 
refined  enquirers  of  the  present  day. 

Marcus  Antoninus  :  "  He  who  is  well  disposed  will  do 
every  thing  dictated  by  the  divinity — a  particle  or  portion  of 
Himself,  which  God  has  given  to  each  as  a  guide  and  a  leader. "X 

•  Par.  Lost,  iii.  194.  t  P.  81.  X  Lib.  5,  Sect.  27. 


CHAP.    VI.]  OF    THE    WILL    OF    GOD.  17 

Aristotle  :  "  The  mind  of  man  hath  a  near  affinity  to  God , 
there  is  a  divine  ruler  in  him.''^ — Plutarch :  "  The  light  of 
truth  is  a  law,  not  written  in  tables  or  books  but  dwelling  in 
the  mind,  always  as  a  living  rule  which  never  permits  the 
soul  to  be  destitute  of  an  interior  guide." — Hieron  says  that 
the  universal  light,  shining  in  the  Conscience,  is  "  a  domestic 
God,  a  God  within  the  hearts  and  souls  of  men." — Epictetus  : 
"  God  has  assigned  to  each  man  a  director,  his  own  good  ge- 
nius, a  guardian  whose  vigilance  no  slumbers  interrupt,  and 
whom  no  false  reasonings  can  deceive.  So  that  when  you 
have  shut  your  door,  say  not  that  you  are  alone,  for  your  God 
is  -vithin. — What  need  have  you  of  outward  light  to  discover 
what  is  done,  or  to  light  to  good  actions,  who  have  God  or  that 
genius  or  divine  principle  for  your  light  ?"*  Such  citations 
might  be  greatly  multiplied  ;  but  one  more  must  suffice.  Sen- 
eca says,  "  We  find  felicity — in  a  pure  and  untainted  mind, 
which  if  it  v:iere  not  holy  were  not  fit  to  entertain  the  Deity. ''^ 
How  like  the  words  of  an  apostle  ! — "  If  any  man  defile  the 
temple  of  God,  him  shall  God  destroy ;  for  the  temple  of  God 
is  holy,  which  temple  ye  are."t  The  philosopher  again : 
"  There  is  a  holy  spirit  in  us  ;"|  and  again  the  apostle  :  "  Know 
ye  not  that"  the  "  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  ?"§ 

Now  respecting  the  various  opinions  Which  have  been  laid 
before  the  reader,  there  is  one  obserA^ation  that  will  generally 
apply — that  they  unite  in  assigning  certain  important  attributes 
or  operations  to  some  principle  or  power  existent  in  the  hu- 
man mind.  They  affirm  that  this  principle  or  power  possesses 
wisdom  to  direct  us  aright — that  its  directions  are  given  in- 
stantaneously as  the  individual  needs  them — that  it  is  insepa- 
rably attended  with  unquestionable  authority  to  command. 
That  such  a  principle  or  power  does,  therefore,  actually  exist, 
can  need  little  further  proof;  for  a  concurrent  judgment  upon 
a  question  of  personal  experience  cannot  surely  be  incorrect. 
To  say  that  individuals  express  their  notions  of  this  principle 
or  power  by  various  phraseology,  that  they  attribute  to  it  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  superhuman  intelligence,  or  that  they  refer 
for  its  origin  to  contradictory  causes,  does  not  afiect  the  gen- 
eral argument.  The  great  point  for  our  attention  is,  not  the 
designation  or  the  supposed  origin  of  this  guide,  but  its  attri" 
butes ;  and  these  attributes  appear  to  be  divine. 

*  Lib.  1,  c.  14.  t  1  Cor.  iii.  17. 

t  De  Benef.  c.  17,  &c.  §  1  Cor.  iii.  IG 


18  THE    IMMEDIATE     COMMUNICATION'  [esSAT  1. 


THE  IMMEDIATE  COMMUNICATION  OF  THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

I.  That  every  reasonable  human  being  is  a  moral  agent — 
that  is,  that  every  such  human  being  is  responsible  to  God,  no 
one  perhaps  denies.  There  can  be  no  responsibility  where 
there  is  no  knowledge  :  "  Where  there  is  no  law  there  is  no 
transgression."  So  then  every  human  being  possesses,  or  is 
furnished  with,  moral  knowledge  and  a  moral  law.  "  If  we 
admit  that  mankind,  without  an  outward  revelation,  are  never- 
theless sinners,  we  must  also  admit  that  mankind,  without 
such  a  revelation,  are  nevertheless  in  possession  of  the  law 
of  God."* 

Whence  then  do  they  obtain  it  ? — a  question  to  which  but 
one  answer  can  be  given  ;  from  the  Creator  himself.  It  ap- 
pears therefore  to  be  almost  demonstratively  shown,  that  God 
does  communicate  his  will  immediately  to  the  minds  of  those 
who  have  no  access  to  the  external  expression  of  it.  It  is 
always  to  be  remembered  that,  as  the  majority  of  mankind  do 
not  possess  the  written  communication  of  the  will  of  God,  the 
question,  as  it  respects  them,  is  between  an  Immediate  Com- 
numication  and  none  ;  between  such  a  communication,  and 
the  denial  of  their  responsibility  in  a  future  state  ;  between 
such  a  communication,  and  the  reducing  them  to  the  condition 
of  the  beasts  that  perish. 

II.  No  one  perhaps  will  imagine  that  this  argument  is  con- 
fined to  countries  which  the  external  light  of  Christianity  has 
not  reached.  "  Whoever  expects  to  find  in  the  Scriptures 
a  specific  direction  for  every  moral  doubt  that  arises,  looks 
tor  more  than  he  will  meet  with  ;"t  so  that  even  in  Christian 
countries  there  exists  some  portion  of  that  necessity  for  other 
guidance,  which  has  been  seen  to  exist  in  respect  to  pagans. 
Thus  Adam  Smith  says  that  there  are  some  questions  which 
it  "  is  perhaps  altogniher  impossible  to  determine  by  any  pre- 
cise rules,"  and  that  they  "  must  be  left  altogether  to  the  de- 
cision of  the  man  within  the  breast." — But,  indeed,  when  we 
speak  of  living  in  Christian  countries,  and  of  having  access 
to  the  external  revelation,  we  are  likely  to  mislead  ourselves 
with  respect  to  the  actual  condition  of  "  Christian"  people. 
Persons  talk  of  possessing  the  Bible,  as  if  every  one  who 
lived  in  a  protestant  country  had  a  Bible  in  his  pocket  and 
could  read  it.  But  there  arc  thousands,  perlinps  millions,  in 
Christian  and  in  protestant  countries,  who  know  very  little  of 

*  Gurney :   Essays  on  Christianity,  p.  516. 
t  Mor.  and  Pol.  riiil.  b.  1 ,  c.  4. 


i 


CHAP.    Vr.J  OF    THE     WILL    OF    GOD.  ly 

wliat  Cliristianity  enjoins.  They  probably  do  not  possess  the 
Scriptures,  or  if  thoy  do,  probably  cannot  read  them.  What 
they  do  know  they  learn  from  others — from  others  who  may 
be  little  solicitous  to  teach  them,  or  to  teach  them  aright. 
Such  persons  therefore  are,  to  a  considerable  extent,  practi- 
cally in  the  same  situation  as  those  who  have  not  heard  of 
Christianity,  and  there  is  therefore  to  them  a  corresponding 
need  of  a  direct  communication  of  knowledge  from  heaven. 
But  if  we  see  the  need  of  such  knowledge  extending  itself 
thus  far,  who  will  call  in  question  the  doctrine,  that  it  is  im- 
parted to  the  whole  human  race? 

These  are  offered  as  considerations  involving  an  antecedent 
probability  of  the  truth  of  our  argument.  The  reader  is  not 
required  to  give  his  assent  to  it  as  to  a  dogma  of  which  he 
can  discover  neither  the  reason  nor  the  object.  Here  is  pro- 
bability very  strong  ;  here  is  usefulness  very  manifest,  and  very 
great ; — so  that  the  mind  may  reasonably  be  open  to  the  recep- 
tion of  evidence,  whatever  Truth  that  evidence  shall  establish. 

If  the  written  revelation  were  silent  respecting  the  imme- 
diate communication  of  the  Divine  Will,  that  silence  might 
perhaps  rightly  be  regarded  as  conclusive  evidence  that  it  is 
not  conveyed  ;  because  it  is  so  intimately  connected  with  the 
purposes  to  which  that  revelation  is  directed,  that  scarcely 
any  other  explanation  could  be  given  of  its  silence  than  that 
the  communication  did  not  exist.  That  the  Scriptures  declare 
that  God  has  communicated  light  and  knowledge  to  some 
men  by  the  immediate  exertion  of  his  own  agency,  admits 
not  of  dispute  :'  but  this  it  is  obvious  is  not  sufficient  for  our 
purpose  ;  and  it  is  in  the  belief  that  they  declare  that  God 
imparts  some  knowledge  to  all  men,  that  we  thus  appeal  to 
their  testimony. 

Now  here  the  reader  should  especially  observe,  that  where 
the  Christian  Scriptures  speak  of  the  existence  and  influence 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  on  the  mind,  they  commonly  speak  of  its 
higher  operations  ;  not  of  its  office  as  a  moral  guide,  but  as  a 
purifier,  and  sanctifier.  and  comforter  of  the  soul.  They 
speak  of  it  in  reference  to  its  sacred  and  awful  operations  in 
connexion  with  human  salvation  :  and  thus  it  happens  that 
very  many  citations  which,  if  we  were  writing  an  essay  on 
religion,  would  be  perfectly  appropriate,  do  not  possess  that 
distinct  and  palpable  application  to  an  argument,  which  coes 
no  further  than  to  affirm  that  it  is  a  moral  guide.  And  yet  it 
may  most  reasonably  be  remarked,  that  if  it  has  pleased  the 
Universal  Parent  thus,  and  for  these  awful  purposes,  to  visit 
the  minds  of  those  who  are  obedient   'o  his  power — he  wiU 


20  THE     IMMEDIATE     COMMU.MCATIOX  [eSSAY   I 

not  suffer  them  to  be  destitute  of  a  moral  guidance.  The  less 
must  be  supposed  to  be  involved  in  the  greater. 

Our  argument  does  not  respect  the  degrees  of  illumination 
which  may  be  possessed,  respectively,  by  individuals,*  or  in 
different  ages  of  the  world.  There  were  motives,  easily  con- 
ceived, for  imparting  a  greater  degree  of  light  and  of  power 
at  the  introduction  of  Christianity  than  in  the  present  day , 
accordingly  there  are  many  expressions  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment which  speak  of  high  degrees  of  light  and  power,  and 
which,  however  they  may  affirm  the  general  existence  of  a 
Divine  Guidance,  are  not  descriptive  of  the  general  nor  of  the 
present  condition  of  mankind.  Nevertheless,  if  the  records 
of  Christianity,  in  describing  these  greater  "  gifts,"  inform  us 
that  a  gift,  similar  in  its  nature  but  without  specification  of 
its  amount,  is  imparted  to  all  men,  it  is  sufficient.  Although 
it  is  one  thing  for  the  Creator  to  impart  a  general  capacity  to 
distinguish  right  from  wrong,  and  another  to  impart  miracufous 
power;  one  thing  to  inform  his  accountable  creature  that  lying 
is  evil,  and  another  to  enable  him  to  cure  a  leprosy ;  yet  this 
affords  no  reason  to  deny  thai  the  nature  of  the  gift  is  not  the 
same,  or  that  both  are  not  divine.  "  The  degree  of  light  may 
vary  according  as  one  man  has  a  greater  measure  than  ano- 
ther. But  the  light  of  an  apostle  is  not  one  thing  and  the 
.ight  of  the  heathen  another  thing,  distinct  in  principle. 
They  differ  only  in  degree  of  power,  distinctness,  and  splen- 
dour of  manifestation. "t 

So  early  as  Gen.  vi.  there  is  a  distinct  declaration  of  the 
moral  operation  of  the  Deity  on  the  human  mind ;  not  upon 
the  pious  and  the  good,  but  upon  those  who  were  desperately 
wicked,  so  that  even  "  every  imagination  of  the  thoughts  of 
their  heart  was  only  evil  continually." — "  My  spirit  shall  not 
always  strive  with  man."  Upon  this  passage  a  good  and  in- 
telligent man  writes  thus  ;  "  Surely,  if  His  spirit  had  striven 
with  them  until  that  time,  until  they  were  so  desperately 
wicked,  and  wholly  corrupted,  that  not  only  some,  but  every 
imagination  of  their  hearts  was  evil,  yes,  only  evil,  and  that 

*  I  am  disposed  to  otfer  a  simple  testimony  to  what  I  believe  to  be  a 
truth  ;  that  even  in  the  present  dav,  the  divine  illumination  and  power  is 
sometimes  imparted  to  individuals  m  a  dffjne  nuich  jTreater  than  is  neces- 
sary for  the  purposes  of  mere  nioral  direction  ;  that  on  subjects  connected 
with  their  own  personal  condition  or  that  of  others,  light  is  sometimes 
imj)arled  in  greater  brightness  and  splendour  than  is  ordinarily  enjoyed  by 
maukind,  or  than  is  necessary  for  our  ordinary  direction  in  life. 

^  Hancock:  Essay  on  Instinct,  »fcc.,  p.  2,  c.  7,  s.  1.  I  take  th's  op[Kir- 
tuuity  of  acknowledging  the  obligations  I  am  under  to  this  work,  iot 
ii:any  of  the  "  Opinions"  wliich  are  cited  in  the  last  sectit.  •. 


CHAP.   VI.]  OF    THE     WILL    OF    GOD.  21 

continually,  we  may  well  believe  the  express  Scripture  asser- 
tion, that  '  a  manifestation  of  the  Spirit  is  given  to  every  man 
to  profit  withal.'  "* 

Respecting  some  of  the  prophetical  passages  in  the  He- 
brew Scriptures,  it  may  be  observed  that  there  appears  a 
want  of  complete  adaptation  to  the  immediate  purpose  of  our 
argument,  because  they  speak  of  that,  prospectively,  which 
our  argument  assumes  to  be  true  retrospectively  also.  "  After 
those  days,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  put  my  law  in  their  inward 
parts  and  write  it  in  their  hearts  ;"t  from  which  the  reader 
may  possibly  conclude  that  before  those  days  no  such  inter- 
nal law  was  imparted.  Yet  the  preceding  paragraph  might 
assure  him  of  the  contrary,  and  that  the  prophet  indicated  an 
increase  rather  than  a  commencement  of  internal  guidance. 
Under  any  supposition  it  does  not  affect  the  argument  as  it 
respects  the  present  condition  of  the  human  race  ;  for  the  pro- 
phecy is  twice  quoted  in  the  Christian  Scriptures,  and  is  ex- 
pressly stated  to  be  fulfilled.  Once  the  prophecy  is  quoted 
almost  at  length,  and  in  the  other  instance  the  important  clause 
is  retained,  "  I  will  put  my  laws  into  their  hearts,  and  in  their 
minds  will  I  write  them."| 

"  And  all  thy  children,"  says  Isaiah,  "  shall  be  taught  of 
the  Lord."  Christ  himself  quotes  this  passage  in  illustrating 
the  nature  of  his  own  religion  :  "  It  is  written  in  the  prophets, 
And  they  shall  be  all  taught  of  God."§ 

"  Thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  teachers  :  and  thine  ears  shall 
hear  a  word  behind  thee,  saying,  This  is  the  way,  walk  yc 
in  it ;  when  ye  turn  to  the  right  hand,  and  when  ye  turn  to 
the  left."  II 

The  Christian  Scriptures,  if  they  be  not  more  explicit,  are 
more  abundant  in  their  testimony.  Paul  addresses  the  ^'■foolish 
Galatians."  The  reader  should  observe  their  character  ;  for 
some  Christians  who  acknowledge  the  Divine  influence  on 
the  minds  of  eminently  good  men,  are  disposed  to  question  it 
in  reference  to  others.  These  foolish  Galatians  had  turned 
again  to  "  weak  and  beggarly  elements,"  and  their  dignified 
instructor  was  afraid  of  them,  lest  he  had  bestowed  upon 
them  labour  in  vain.  Nevertheless,  to  them  he  makes  the 
solemn  declaration,  ''  God  hath  sent  forth  the  Spirit  of  his 
Son  into  your  hearts."^ 

John  writes  a  General  Epistle,  an  epistle  which  was  ad- 
dressed, of  course,  to  a  great  variety  of  characters,  of  whom 
some,  it  is  probable,  possessed  little  more  of  the  new  religion 

»  Job  Scott's  Journal,  c.  1.     t  Jer.  xxxi.  33.     t  Heb.  viii.  10  ;  andx.  16 
§  John  vi.  45.  ||  Isa.  xxx.  20,  21.  V  GaL  iv.  6. 


22  THF,     IMMKOIATK    COMMUNICATION  [kSSAYI. 

than  the  name.  The  apostle  writes — "  Hereby  we  know 
that  he  abideth  in  us  by  the  Spirit  wliich  he  hath  given  us."* 

The  solemn  declarations  which  follow  are  addressed  to 
large  numbers  of  recent  converts,  of  converts  whom  the  writer 
had  been  severely  reproving  for  improprieties  of  conduct,  for 
unchristian  contentions,  and  even  for  the  greater  faults  :  "  Ye 
are  the  temple  of  the  living  God,  as  God  hath  said,  I  will 
dwell  in  them  and  walk  in  them." — "  What,  know  ye  not  that 
your  body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  in  you  ^''t 
"  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  ?  If  any  man  defile  the  temple 
of  God,  him  shall  God  destroy ;  for  the  temple  of  God  is 
holy,  which  temple  ye  are."| 

And  with  respect  to  the  moral  operations  of  this  sacred 
power : — "  As  touching  brotherly  love,  ye  need  not  that  I 
write  unto  you :  for  ye  yourselves  are  taught  of  God  to  love 
one  another  f^  that  is,  taught  a  duty  of  morality. 

Thus  also ; — "  The  Grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation 
hath  appeared  to  all  men,  teaching  us  that,  denying  ungodli- 
ness and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  soberly,  righteously, 
and  godly,  in  this  present  w^orld  ;"||  or  in  other  words,  teach- 
ing all  men  moral  laws — laws  both  mandatory  and  prohibitory, 
teaching  both  what  to  do  and  what  to  avoid. 

And  very  distinctly : — "The  manifestation  of  the  Spirit  is 
given  to  every  man  to  profit  withal. "1"  "  A  Light  to  lighten 
the  Gentiles."**  "  I  am  the  Light  of  the  world."tt  "  The 
true  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
world."t| 

"  When  the  Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature 
the  things  contained  in  the  law,  these  having  not  the  law  are 
a  law  unto  themselves,  which  show  the  work  of  the  law  writ- 
ten in  their  hearts."§^ — written,  it  may  be  asked  by  whom  but 
by  that  Being  who  said,  "  I  will  put  my  law  in  their  inward 
parts,  and  write  it  in  their  hearts  ?"i||| 

To  such  evidence  from  the  written  revelation,  I  know  of 
no  other  objection  which  can  be  urged  than  the  supposition 
that  this  Divine  instruction,  though  existing  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago,  does  not  exist  now.  To  which  it  appears  suffi- 
cient to  reply,  that  it  existed  not  only  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago,  but  before  the  period  of  the  Deluge  ;  and  that  the  terms 
in  which  the  Scriptures  speak  of  it  are  incompatible  with  the 

*  I  Jolin  iii.  24.  t  1  Cor.  vi.  19.                   X  1  Cor.  iii.  16. 

§  1  Thess.  iv.  9.  II  Tit.  ii.  11,  12  T  1  Cor.  xii.  7. 

•»  Luke  ii.  32.  tt  John  viii.  12.  \\  Jolm  i.  9. 

^^  Rom.  ii.  14.  IIjj  Jej-.  x\x\.  'X\. 


CRAP.    VI. J  THE     WILL    OF    GOD.  23 

supposition  of  a  temporary  duration :  "  all  taught  of  God  :" 
"  in  you  all ;"  "  halli  appeared  unto  all  men  :''  '•'  given  to  ev(}ry 
man :"  "  every  man  that  comcth  into  the  worlds  Besides, 
there  is  not  the  most  remote  indication  in  the  Christian  Scrip- 
tures that  this  mstruction  would  not  be  perpetual ;  and  their 
silence  on  such  a  subject,  a  subject  involving  the  most  sacred 
privileges  of  our  race,  must  surely  be  regarded  as  positive 
evidence  that  this  instruction  would  be  accorded  to  us  for  ever. 


How  clear  soever  appears  to  be  the  evidence  of  reason, 
that  man,  being  universally  a  moral  and  accountable  agent, 
must  be  possessed,  universally,  of  a  moral  law  ;  and  how  dis- 
tinct soever  the  testimony  of  revelation,  that  he  does  univer- 
sally possess  it — objections  are  still  urged  against  its  existence. 

Of  these,  perhaps  the  most  popular  are  those  which  are 
founded  upon  the  varying  dictates  of  the  "  Conscience."  If 
the  view  which  we  have  taken  of  the  nature  and  operations 
of  the  conscience  be  just,  these  objections  will  have  little 
weight.  That  the  dictates  of  the  conscience  should  vary  in 
individuals  respectively,  is  precisely  what,  from  the  circiim- 
slances  of  the  case,  is  to  be  expected  ;  but  this  variation  does 
not  impeach  the  existence  of  that  purer  ray  which,  whether 
in  less  or  greater  brightness,  irradiates  the  heart  of  man. 

I  am,  however,  disposed  here  to  notice  the  objections*  that 
may  be  founded  upon  national  derelictions  of  portions  of  the 
Moral  Law.  "  There  is,"  says  Locke,  "  scarce  that  principle 
of  morality  to  be  named,  or  rule  of  virtue  to  be  thought  on, 
which  is  not  somewhere  or  other  slighted  and  condemned  bj 
the  general  fashion  of  whole  societies  of  men,  governed  by 
practical  opinions  and  rules  of  living  quite  opposite  to 
others." — And  Paley :  "  There  is  scarcely  a  single  vice 
which,  in  some  age  or  country  of  the  world,  has  not  been 
countenanced  by  public  opinion  :  in  one  country  it  is  esteemed 
an  office  of  piety  in  children  to  sustain  their  aged  parents,  in 
another  to  dispatch  them  out  of  the  way :  suicide  in  one  age 
of  the  world  has  been  heroism,  in  another  felony  ;  theft  which 
is  punished  by  most  laws,  by  the  laws  of  Sparta  was  not  un- 
frequently  rewarded :  you  shall  hear  duelling  alternately  re- 
probated and  applauded  according  to  the  sex,  age,  or  station 
of  the  person  you  converse  with:  the  forgiveness  of  injuries 
and  insults  is  accounted  by  one  sort  of  people  magnanimity, 
by  another,  meanness."! 

*  Not  urged  specifically,'  perhaps,  against  the  Divine   Guidance ;  but 
ihev  will  equally  afford  an  illustration  of  the  truth, 
t  Mor.  and  Pol.  Phil.  b.  1.  c.  5. 


24 


THE    IMMEDIATE    CO\fM UNICATION  [ESSAY  I. 


Upon  all  which  I  observe,  that  to  whatever  purpose  these 
reasoninijs  are  directed,  they  are  defective  in  an  essentia) 
point.  They  show  us  indeed  what  the  external  actions  of 
men  have  been,  but  give  no  proof  that  these  actions  were  con- 
formable with  the  secret  internal  judgment :  and  this  last  is 
the  only  important  point.  That  a  rule  of  virtue  is  "  slighted 
and  condemned  by  the  general  fashion,^''  is  no  sort  of  evidence 
that  those  who  joined  in  this  general  fashion  did  not  still 
know  that  it  was  a  rule  of  virtue.  There  are  many  duties 
which,  in  the  present  day,  are  slighted  by  the  general  fashion, 
and  yet  no  man  will  stand  up  and  say  that  they  are  not  duties 
"  There  is  scarcely  a  single  vice  which  has  not  been  coun- 
tenanced by  public  opinion  ;"  but  where  is  the  proof  that  it 
has  been  approved  by  private  and  secret  judgment  ?  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between  those  sentiments  which 
men  seem  to  entertain  respecting  their  duties  when  they  give 
expression  to  "  public  opinion,"  and  when  they  rest  their 
neads  on  their  pillows  in  calm  reflection.  "  Suicide  in  one 
age  of  the  world  has  been  heroism,  in  another  felony  ;"  but  it 
is  not  every  action  which  a  man  says  is  heroic,  that  he  be- 
lieves is  right.  "  Forgiveness  of  injuries  and  insults  is  ac- 
counted by  one  sort  of  people  magnanimity,  by  another,  mean- 
ness ;"  and  yet  they  who  thus  vulgarly  employ  the  word 
meanness,  do  not  imagine  that  forbearance  and  placability  are 
really  wrong. 

I  have  met  with  an  example  which  serves  to  confirm  me 
in  the  judgment,  that  public  notions  or  rather  public  actions 
are  a  very  equivocal  evidence  of  the  real  sentiments  of  man- 
kind. "  Can  there  be  greater  barbarity  than  to  hurt  an  iTi- 
fant?  Its  helplessness,  its  innocence,  its  amiableness,  call 
forth  the  compassion  even  of  an  enemy. — What  then  should 
we  imagine  must  be  the  heart  of  a  parent  who  would  injure 
that  weakness  which  a  furious  enemy  is  afraid  to  violate  ? 
Yet  the  exposition,  that  is,  the  murder  of  new-bom  infants, 
was  a  practice  allowed  of  in  almost  all  the  States  of  Greece, 
even  among  the  polite  and  civilized  Athenians."  This  seems 
a  strong  case  against  us.  But  what  were  the  grounds  upon 
which  this  atrocity  was  defended  ? — "  Philosophers,  instead 
of  censuring,  supported  the  horrible  abuse,  by  far-fetched 
considerations  of  public  utility."* 

By  far-fetched  considerations  of  public  utility  !  Why  had 
they  recourse  to  such  arguments  as  these  ?  Because  they. 
found  that  the  custom  could  not  be  reconciled  with  direct  and 

»  Theory  Mor.  Sent.  p.  5,  c.  2. 


GHAP     VI.]  OF    THE    WILL    OF    GOD.  25 

acknowledged  rules  of  virtue  :  because  they  felt  and  knew 
that  it  was  wrong.  The  very  circumstance  that  they  had 
recourse  to  "  far-fetched  arguments,"  is  evidence  that  they 
were  conscious  that  clearer  and  more  immediate  arguments 
were  against  them.  They  knew  that  infanticide  was  an  im- 
moral act. 

I  attach  some  importance  to  the  indications  which  this 
class  of  reasoning  affords  of  the  comparative  uniformity  of 
human  opinion,  even  when  it  is  nominally  discordant.  One 
other  illustration  maybe  offered  from  more  private  life.  Bos- 
well  in  his  Life  of  Johnson,  says  that  he  proposed  the  (ques- 
tion to  the  moralist,  "  Whether  duelling  was  contrary  to  the 
laws  of  Christianity .?"  Let  the  reader  notice  the  essence  of 
the  reply :  "  Sir,  as  men  become  in  a  high  degree  refined, 
various  causes  of  offence  arise  which  are  considered  to  be  of 
such  importance  that  life  must  be  staked  to  atone  for  them, 
though  in  reality  they  are  not  so.  In  a  state  of  highly  pol- 
ished society,  an  affront  is  held  to  be  a  serious  injury.  It 
must  therefore  be  resented,  or  rather  a  duel  must  be  fought 
upon  it,  as  men  have  agreed  to  banish  from  their  society  one 
who  puts  up  with  an  affront  without  fighting  a  duel.  Now, 
Sir,  it  is  never  unlawful  to  fight  in  self-defence.  He  then 
who  fights  a  duel,  does  not  fight  from  passion  against  his  an- 
tagonist, but  out  of  self-defence,  to  avert  the  stigma  of  the 
world,  and  to  prevent  himself  from  being  driven  from  society. 
— While  such  notions  prevail,  no  doubt  a  man  may  lawfully 
fight  a  duel."  The  question  was,  the  consistency  of  duelling 
with  the  laws  of  Christianity ;  and  there  is  not  a  word  about 
Christianity  in  the  reply.  Why?  Because  its  laws  can  never 
be  shown  to  allow  duelling ;  and  Johnson  doubtless  knew 
this.  Accordingly,  like  the  philosophers  who  tried  to  justify 
the  kindred  crime  of  infanticide,  he  had  recourse  to  "  far- 
fetched considerations," — to  the  high  polish  of  society — to 
the  stigma  of  the  world — to  the  notions  that  prevail.  Now, 
whilst  the  readers  of  Boswell  commonly  think  they  have 
Johnson's  authority  in  favour  of  duelling,  I  think  they  have 
his  authority  against  it.  I  think  that  the  mode  in  which  he 
justified  duelling,  evinced  his  consciousness  that  it  was  not 
compatible  with  the  Moral  Law. 

And  thus  it  is,  that  with  respect  to  Public  Opinions,  and 
general  fashions,  and  thence  descending  to  private  life,  we 
shall  find  that  men  very  usually  know  the  requisitions  of  the 
Moral  Law  better  than  they  seem  to  know  them ;  and  that 
he  who  estimates  the  moral  knowledge  of  societies  or  indi« 


26  THE     IMMEDIATE    COMMUNICATION  [eSSAY   I 

viduals  by  their  common  language,  refers  to  an  uncertain  and 
fallacious  standard. 

After  all,  the  uniformity  of  human  opinion  respecting  the 
great  laws  of  morality  is  very  remarkable.  Sir  James  Mack- 
intosh speaks  of  Grotius,  who  had  cited  poets,  orators,  his- 
torians, &c.,  and  says,  "  He  quotes  them  as  witnesses,  whose 
conspiring  testimony,  mightily  strengthened  and  confirmed  by 
their  discordance  on  almost  every  other  subject,  is  a  conclu- 
sive proof  of  the  unanimity  of  the  whole  human  race,  on  the 
great  rules  of  duty  and  fundamental  principles  of  morals."* 

From  poets  and  orators  we  may  turn  to  s^—ige  life.  In 
1683,  that  is,  soon  after  the  colonization  of  P<'.insylvania,  the 
founder  of  the  colony  held  a  "  council  and  consultation"  with 
some  of  the  Indians.  In  the  course  of  the  interview  it  ap- 
peared that  these  savages  believed  in  a  state  of  future  retribu- 
tion ;  and  they  described  their  simple  ideas  of  the  respective 
states  of  the  good  and  bad.  The  vices  that  they  enumerated 
as  those  which  would  consign  them  to  punishment,  are  remark- 
able, inasmuch  as  they  so  nearly  correspond  to  similar  enu- 
merations in  the  Christian  Scriptures.  They  were  "  theft, 
swearing,  lying,  whoring,  murder,  and  the  like  ;"t  and  the 
New  Testament  affirms  that  those  who  are  guilty  of  adultery, 
fornication,  lying,  theft,  murder,  &c.,  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God.  The  same  writer  having  on  his  travels 
met  with  some  Indians,  stopped  and  gave  them  some  good 
and  serious  advices.  "  They  wept,"  says  he,  "  and  tears  ran 
down  their  naked  bodies.  They  smote  their  hands  upon  their 
breasts  and  said,  '  The  Good  Man  here  told  them  what  I  said 
was  all  good.'  "J  

But  reasonings  such  as  these  are  in  reality  not  necessary 
to  the  support  of  the  truth  of  the  Immediate  Communication 
of  the  Will  of  God  ;  because  if  the  variations  in  men's  no- 
tions of  right  and  wrong  were  greater  than  they  are,  they 
would  not  impeach  the  existence  of  that  communication.  In 
the  first  place,  wo  never  alfirm  that  the  Deity  communicates 
all  his  law  to  every  man  :  and  in  the  second  place,  it  is  suffi- 
ciently certain  that  multitudes  know  his  laws,  and  yet  neglect 
to  fulfil  them. 

If,  in  conclusion,  it  should  be  asked,  what  assistance  can 
be  yielded,  in  the  investigation  of  publicly  authorized  rules 
of  virtue,  by  the  discussions  of  the  present  chapter  ?  we  an- 
swer, Very  little.     But  when  it  is  asked.  Of  what  impor- 

•  Disc,  on  Study  of  T.aw  of  Nature  and  Nations. 

t  Jolin  Ricliardson's  Life.  \  Ibid. 


CHAP.   VI.]  OF    THE     LAW     OF    GOD.  27 

tance  are  they  as  illustrating  the  Principles  of  Morality  ?  we 
answer,  Very  much.  If  there  be  two  sources  from  which  it 
has  pleased  God  to  enable  mankind  to  know  his  Will — a  law- 
written  externally,  and  a  law  communicated  to  the  heart — it 
is  evident  that  both  must  be  regarded  as  Principles  of  Mo- 
rality and  that,  in  a  work  like  the  present,  both  should  be 
iUustrated  as  such.  It  is  incidental  to  the  latter  mode  of 
moral  guidance,  that  it  is  little  adapted  to  the  formation  of  ex- 
ternal rules  ;  but  it  is  of  high  and  solemn  importance  to  our 
species  for  the  secret  direction  of  the  individual  maa. 

24 


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